


Just Pretending (Dreaming With A Happy Ending)

by EllanaSan



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Presents, Effie centric, F/M, Merry Christmas!, Minor Katniss Everdeen/Peeta Mellark, Post-Canon, Post-Mockingjay, Some Fluff, Some Humor, Some angst, a "pot pourri" of everything in short, some steam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:14:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 33,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21846295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllanaSan/pseuds/EllanaSan
Summary: Three years without news and all you have to say is ‘hi’?she wanted to yell.Three years and…
Relationships: Haymitch Abernathy/Effie Trinket
Comments: 101
Kudos: 188
Collections: Hayffie Christmas Stories





	1. You've Got Your Demons (And Darling They All Look Like Me)

**Author's Note:**

> 2019’s Christmas story, here we come! 
> 
> Soooo this is based on a prompt from a list Jisoomes showed me (go follow her if you don’t already, go read her hayffie fics, go tell her you love them so we can eventually have mooore). I can disclose the particular prompt for now without spoiling the surprise so I will leave you in suspense for now. 
> 
> All the titles come from various songs from Taylor Swift because for whatever reason I kept having her on shuffle when I wrote this and who am I to go against fate? (also yes I wanted to try the titles with parenthesis because I’ve never gotten into the trend so why not now?)
> 
> There are seven parts in this story, I will post every day from today to the 24th (nobody tells me my math are wrong even if they are pretty please (and yes that means double posts on Friday and Sunday)). 
> 
> I hope you will enjoy this! Please do let me know your thoughts, you know I live for feedback and since it is Christmas you should feed me. ;)

Effie took her hands off the tinsel, waiting to see if the tape would hold or if the whole thing would come crashing down. She held her breath, her hands still in the air, her balance tentative perched as she was on the old wobbly stool she usually used to eat at the short counter separating her kitchenette from the small living-room.

It was too early to start decorating for Christmas really, barely even mid-November… However, she tried not to let the gloom take all the joy out of her life, as hard as it was after the war, and she liked cheering herself up when she could. Hanging second-hand but colorful tinsels and ornaments in red, gold and green helped. She hadn’t been able to afford a proper tree in three years, not since the rebels had taken over and had swept off everything she owned – well, they _had_ let her live in the end so she supposed it was already something but… – and she was fairly sure a tree wouldn’t have fitted in there anyway but she still regretted it. She loved nothing more than a Christmas tree.

The tape didn’t hold and the tinsel fell off the tiny window’s upper edge. She struggled to grab it as the phone started ringing and, startled by the unexpected noise, she almost lost her balance. For a moment, she simply resolved to ignore the phone and keep decorating but then she remembered the children were roughly due for what she had dubbed their monthly Effie-checking – mostly, it was Peeta doing the checking, Katniss always said _hi_ but hardly ever any more than that – and she hastily climbed off the stool, tossed the tinsel on the frayed couch that doubled as a bed and reached for the phone.

There was only one advantage to being so destitute you were living in a one-room apartment with a tiny bathroom: everything was always within reach.

“Hello?” she picked up, wrapping her sweater tighter around her. It wasn’t _freezing_ but it was cold and she was forcing herself not to turn on the heater because she had to save money where she could and the heater was less important than the rent. The job Plutarch had found her _barely_ covered the bills.

There was a long silence at the other end of the line, hard breathing sounds, and Effie felt her whole body grow even colder. One of _those_ then. She wasn’t sure how people kept getting her phone number but it wasn’t the first time it happened. Some liked to insult her, other liked to scare her… She was mostly immune to it all by now.

“Alright, you had your fun.” she snapped. “Please, do not call again.”

She didn’t want to have to change her number again. She wasn’t even sure she could _afford_ to change her number again.

Truth be told, she should just get rid of the phone altogether. It cost more than it was useful. But it was also her only link to Twelve and the children and… It was probably pathetic how much she clung to those random calls from Peeta when it was so obvious her victors had moved on – and good for them, they deserved a better life, a _good_ life – but she couldn’t convince herself to just burn that bridge. She cared about them, she still felt responsible for them. She _loved_ them. They were still part of her team even if they all seemed to have forgotten she used to be a part of theirs.

“ _Effie.”_

She recognized the voice at once, of course, even if it had been close to three years since she had last heard it.

She sucked in a shocked breath.

There had been tears the last time she had heard that voice. Tears and screams and slamming doors.

“Haymitch.” she whispered, the name slipping past her lips.

It wasn’t pained or resentful anymore but it wasn’t as detached as she would have liked either.

_“Hi.”_ he said, clearly hesitant.

She dropped on the couch, her legs going weak.

A part of her, a part she had thought long gone because she was usually so _numb_ those days, wanted to rage and shout. Haymitch always made her want to rage and shout.

_Three years without news and all you have to say is ‘hi’?_ she wanted to yell. _Three years and…_

But she didn’t have that fire in her anymore. Months at the tender mercy of the Capitol had snuffed it out. She found it easier to go through the motions nowadays; not the formidable lady who commanded everyone with an iron fist and a smile anymore, but a meek frail woman with white strands she couldn’t quite afford to hide under hair dye; a woman nobody looked at twice and who bowed her head when her boss screamed at her because he was frustrated by the beautiful models in his agency; no longer the escort but a mere secretary; no longer a beauty but a scarred little thing…

So instead of yelling at him for never giving news when she had been the one to tell him to go to hell and stay there, instead of shouting he should have known better than listen to her hysterics – because _of course_ he had to go back to Twelve with Katniss and _of course_ he hadn’t had a choice – and make contact before, instead of screaming that she had been waiting and hoping – because he _had_ said she would always be welcome in Twelve and he wanted her there but she wanted _him_ to come after her – she jumped on the only possible conclusion for his sudden call. “Is it the children? Did something happen? Are they alright?”

“ _No, no… They’re fine. They’re fine.”_ he hastily replied. _“I’m not calling about the children… I’m calling ‘cause…”_

His voice trailed off and she didn’t know if it was the still poor connection in Twelve or if he simply didn’t know how to tell her whatever it was he had _finally_ picked up the phone to tell her. The children were always very closed-lipped about Haymitch, so much so that she was certain he had given instructions not to reveal too much. All she knew, all she had gathered from patient subtle interrogations, was that he now had a flock of geese in his backyard and was doing tolerably alright – _knowing Haymitch_ , Peeta always added. She had tried to figure out, in ridiculous pikes of sudden jealousy, if the mystery meant he had someone in his life but Peeta never gave out any hint and she was too proud to outward _ask_.

She wondered, right then, if he was calling her about _that_. Perhaps he had found someone he liked enough to get married to, a proper woman from his District who would always say the right thing and never make him sneer in loathing at her spoiled attitude. Perhaps he was calling to warn her because there was no way one of the only remaining victor marrying wouldn’t make the headlines and he didn’t want her to hear about it like that.

That was, of course, a little too sensible for Haymitch but, she supposed, the children – or Johanna – would make him do it and it would explain why he sounded so awkward.

Other than the fact it had been three years. 

With the distinct feeling her mind was unraveling and she needed to pull herself together before she worked herself up into a panic attack, she pressed the back of her hand against her cheek. Her fingers were cold, colder than her face at the very least, and it jolted her a little.

_“Hem…”_ Haymitch half-coughed and it was so weird, so _not_ him to tip-toe around anything in that way that her mind went back to the marriage theory. _“Look, er…”_ He sighed and she could so perfectly picture the way he must have been rubbing his face in annoyance at his own fumbling words. _“Look, your Christmas gift’s ready.”_

She blinked.

That really wasn’t what she had been expecting.

“It’s the thirteenth of November.” she reminded him after a moment of silence because… Well, it seemed worth mentioning.

_“I know…”_ he replied with obvious irritation. _“But it’s like… Overdue, alright? Three years overdue.”_

It was so preposterous that she licked her lips and came to the only logical conclusion about this conversation. “Are you drunk?”

_“What? No!”_ There was a hint of panic in his voice and she distinctly heard the rumble of another voice behind him. He wasn’t alone wherever he was and she briefly wondered if this was all an elaborate prank. “ _No, I ain’t drunk. I’m… I’m sober now. Been sober a while. Relapsed once or twice but I’ve been dry for close to a whole year now.”_

She couldn’t help the bitter thought that she had never been worth getting sober for, not even after the war when she had needed him so much. She had driven him back to the bottle instead or so he had claimed in a drunken stupor a little before he had left with Katniss. He had been sober in Thirteen but between what had happened at the City Circle, the numerous deaths and the state she had been in… She had been the straw to break the camel’s back or so he had mumbled.

She had never wanted to be another reason on his list of excuses to drink himself into suicide.

She fancied herself a good person though, despite everything, and thus she forced herself to focus on the part of herself who was happy for an old friend.

“Good for you, Haymitch.” she said and meant it. “I am glad for you.”

_“Thanks.”_ he mumbled, clearly embarrassed. She heard the rumble of that other voice again and then he cleared his throat. “ _So… When are you coming?”_

“Coming?” she repeated, frowning.

This whole conversation was so surreal that, for a moment, she suspected she had abused sleeping pills once again and she was, in fact, dreaming the whole thing. It wouldn’t have been the first time she had dreamt about Haymitch showing back up in her life to save her from how dull and awful it had become. 

She had never fancied herself a damsel in distress but she wasn’t naïve enough not to see she badly needed rescuing.

_“To Twelve. For your gift.”_ he explained, sounding his grumpy old-self, as if he was annoyed she wasn’t keeping up with his weird clarifications.

“I…” Her voice faltered. Even if she had wanted to go to Twelve – which she wasn’t sure she _did_ – she didn’t have the money. A train ticket to the other end of the country, even for a destination as unpopular as Twelve, would cost a pretty penny and she simply didn’t have any to spare. “Can’t you send it over in the mail?”

_“Too big. Won’t fit.”_ He snorted as if there was a good joke there.

She felt her lips twitch. “Is that an innuendo?”

It earned her a chuckle and she wasn’t sure why she was so pleased to still be able to make him laugh.

_“No, I’m pretty sure_ that _still fits. But good to know it’s on your mind.”_ he teased.

This time, the rumble of this other voice was closer to a cry of amused protest and she was certain enough of her guess to lift her eyebrows, forgetting he wouldn’t see her. “Is Peeta _terribly_ embarrassed?”

“ _Wouldn’t say_ terribly _but close enough.”_ he joked. His voice was less hesitant now, becoming warmer as if he was relaxing into the certainty she wasn’t going to scream or hang up on him. _“I tried to kick him out, you know… He seems to think I need to be coached into this. As if I don’t have game of my own…”_

“You didn’t give me any news for three years and you are now calling out of the blue about a supposed Christmas gift.” she deadpanned, more acidic than she meant to. “You do _not_ have the sort of game that will smooth _that_ over so I think his coaching might not be the worst idea.”

There was a moment of silence and then she was fairly confident he just _shrugged_. “ _He did say I should send flowers.”_

“Flowers would have been nice.” she agreed. “Flowers three years ago would have been better.”

She heard him lick his lips, then there was a muffled conversation so she guessed he had covered the phone with his hand. Next thing she knew he was sighing in her ear again.

_“The boy’s gone.”_ he said outright, the lightness gone from his tone as well, replaced with a tired sort of seriousness. _“You said you didn’t want to hear from me anymore. Ever.”_

“That is not stopping you now.” she pointed out. “What changed?”

“ _You gift’s ready.”_ he replied as if it explained everything. _“Wanted it to be ready sooner but it didn’t quite work out that way. Took three years. Took three years to make sure I could stick to water too.”_

She closed her eyes, dropped her head against the back of the couch…

A part of her, the ghost of the adventurous fearless woman she used to be, wanted to run to the train station, be a stowaway if that was what it took, find out what the gift was regardless of if it was worth it because she had always been eager to run every time Haymitch had whistled.

The woman she was now, the woman who had survived captivity and who always knew how to be practical, had to worry about keeping her job, paying her bills and protecting what was left of her heart – or her sanity.

If she went to Twelve, she would likely fall back on bad habits. She would fall back in love with Haymitch because a simple conversation was enough to make her giddy and to want to giggle like a schoolgirl. She would fall back in bed with him. She would…

She didn’t have much to risk.

Her life was awful and, most days, she felt as if she was simply waiting for death to catch up in one form or another, but… There was always further to fall. She could end up on the streets. She could end up having to sell more of her dignity. She could end up feeling torn into pieces again because she wasn’t who Haymitch remembered and he would grow bored and…

“Is it a puppy?” she asked to distract herself, even if the question was silly. Maybe _because_ the question was silly. “My gift?”

She was so starved for any form of affection she had thought about taking a pet, she had thought about it a lot lately, but a cat cost money, even a stray. And she wasn’t sure she would survive long enough to properly take care of it. She didn’t want to leave a poor cat behind to fend for himself after getting a home for a couple of years.

Haymitch wasn’t really a cat person though. He knew it was her favorite kind of pets but if he had gotten her an animal it would probably be a dog: an ugly mongrel that would be huge and hairy and that probably would smell.

And yet she found the prospect wouldn’t be that terrible.

Dogs made good companions, didn’t they?

_“Why would it have taken me three years to get you a puppy?”_ he scoffed.

“I do not know…” she hummed. “You could have bred the perfect one especially for me.”

It amused her to imagine him hunting the ugliest dogs in his district just to make sure he got the ugliest puppy to give to her. It was the kind of joke he could make.

She smiled.

_“It ain’t a puppy.”_ he insisted and then hesitated. She could hear the frown in his voice. _“Do you_ want _a puppy? Cause Katniss keeps saying I should get one, you know, and I’ve got my eyes on a litter of Samoyeds… They’re white and fluffy… Just your kind of_ shit _…”_

It did sound like her kind of pets.

“Language.” she chided anyway.

He let out a long breath. It almost sounded pained. “ _Can’t tell you…”_ His voice was raw all of a sudden. “ _How much I_ fucking _missed hearing you say that…”_

She bit down on the inside of her cheek, chose to ignore that for the moment… “I cannot keep a puppy in my apartment.”

“ _No_ shit _.”_ He snorted, clearly making an effort to school his tone into something lighter. _“It needs open space and air that doesn’t smell like fume… It needs…”_ His voice trailed off suddenly and he cleared his throat. _“It needs a lot of affection too, too much maybe… Maybe it needs some training… It’s gonna take work to learn to live with it probably… Maybe it won’t be all fun at first but… You know, sweetheart, I bet that dog’s gonna love you forever… Trick is… That kind of dogs… It doesn’t know anything but Twelve so…”_

She didn’t make the mistake of asking if they were still talking about the puppy.

“I suppose it _would_ be unhappy anywhere else.” she hummed.

“ _I guess it could be happy anywhere with you…”_ he offered _“But the city ain’t no place for him, no. Not if you want him to stick to water.”_

“We would not want to deprive the children of their puppy either.” she pointed out. “How rude.”

He snorted but his voice softened into uncertainty once again. “So… You’re gonna come?”

She opened her eyes and gave a good look around her living-room/bedroom and the sad peeled tinsel hanging around. “It’s been three years, Haymitch.”

_“I know.”_ he said.

“Why now?” she asked. “And do not say it is because of your mysterious gift. Give me the real answer.”

Again, there was a silence and a sigh. _“Cause it’s time. I’m… I’m good. In my head. Mostly. As good as I’m gonna get anyway. And… It’s just time, sweetheart. Now or never, that kind of_ bullshit _. I don’t wanna wake up in ten years with even more regrets, I’ve got enough of those and you’re the biggest of all. I wanna give you everything you deserve, I wanna… Please, just come get your gift.”_

“Haymitch…” she sighed.

“ _I… I love you.”_ he muttered, fast and raw as if it was physically painful for him to say. “ _I’ve been loving you for a long time. More time than I knew even. But, hey, I ain’t the smartest egg in the basket…”_

“You know you are.” she whispered, tears burning her eyes and the back of her throat. “You _know_ you are.”

_“Yeah, well…_ ” He cleared his throat. _“That sums it up, really. I ain’t asking you to… Look, I get it’s been three years and you’ve probably met…”_

“I didn’t.” she cut him off. “How could I? You know you were always…” She shook her head. “I was twelve when I fell in love with you. I do not think I ever stopped. It is ridiculous, of course, but…”

“ _Please, come to Twelve.”_ he begged. _“I need to see you… I need to show you… We can do this, Effie, we can_ have _this. I’m… I’m all in now. And I_ fucking _miss you…”_

“Three _years_.” she repeated. “If you had said _half_ of that three months after you left, I would have come running.”

_“Yeah, but I wouldn’t have…”_ He stopped and sighed again. “ _You deserved better. You deserve everything. I wanna give that to you. I wanna_ prove to _you that… You said… That morning when I left with Katniss, you said I’ve never cared about you, that I only cared about sex… It wasn’t true.”_

“I know.” she admitted. She had known even then, even in her hysterical terror of being abandoned again…

_“Let me prove it to you.”_ he demanded. _“Come to Twelve, come see my gift… It’s Christmas…”_

“It is not Christmas yet.” she argued.

_“Please, princess, I know you… You’d start Christmas in September if you could.”_ he teased. “ _Tell me you don’t have a Christmas tree already set up right now. I dare you.”_

She couldn’t get herself to confess she didn’t have enough room for a tree.

“Fine.” she surrendered. “I do love Christmas and it would be rude not to accept your gift. Fine. I will come.”

_“Yeah?”_ He chuckled and he sounded so genuinely happy that she couldn’t help but laugh too. _“When? What’s the earliest train?”_

“Oh, I cannot come _today_ …” She winced. “Actually, I am not sure when… I would need to ask for a few days off… I cannot just _not_ show up to work, you see, and… Well, I _do_ have a budget nowadays so…”

“ _I can pay for the train tickets.”_ he cut her off.

It felt like a slap and she wondered if that was what he had felt all those years ago when he had complained she was throwing her wealth in his face all the time.

“I can pay for my own tickets.” she huffed in a spike of pride. “I just… I need to organize.”

He seemed to have realized he had made a blunder because he sounded sheepish and a little anxious, as if he was scared he had ruined everything. _“Can we say the tickets are part of the gift?”_

“Haymitch.” she half-hissed.

_“Please.”_ he insisted.

“I do not know…” she sighed. It was a lot and too fast. The call, the gift, the hint that he wanted something more stable… “I will… Look, I will call you when I know more.”

His disappointment was obvious. She heard him swallow it down. _“Alright.”_

“I will come, Haymitch.” she promised. “I simply need… I need to organize.”

_“Alright_.” he said again, softening a little. _“It’s… It’s goodbye for now, then, yeah?”_

“Yes. Just for now.” She smiled. “I am happy you called.”

_“Effie, don’t be a stranger…”_ he hesitated.

“I won’t.” she insisted. “I will call as soon as I have a date.”

_“Alright.”_ he said again, a little flat. _“Goodbye, sweetheart.”_

She whispered her goodbye and put the phone down because she knew it would be easier that way.

She had never really been good at parting with him.


	2. And I Wish I Could Run To You (And I Hope You Know Every Time I Don't I Almost Do)

Effie wanted to go to Twelve.

She really did.

Ever since Haymitch had put the thought in her head, she couldn’t think of anything else. First and foremost, she wanted to see him. She wanted to let bygones be bygones, sink into his embrace and forget about _everything_ else. But she also wanted to see the children, hug them… She missed them. All of them.

And she was curious about the mysterious gift.

She truly wanted to leave at once but it wasn’t that simple.

First her boss wouldn’t give her a definite answer about possible free days. He insisted it was a busy time for the agency and he needed her – which you would never have guessed given the amount of time he spent yelling at her every day.

Then, there was the money issue.

She couldn’t go to Twelve empty-handed around Christmas, that would never have done. She needed gifts for Haymitch and the children. She managed to find a lovely scarf for Katniss and some art book for Peeta and she went broke on a navy blue coat for Haymitch – because she _knew_ he probably was still carrying his old one around, he would never go shopping for clothes if she didn’t threaten him – and once that was done all her meager savings were gone and she had nothing left for the rent _or_ train tickets.

Weeks passed and it wasn’t just her gearing up for Christmas anymore, the whole city was dressing up for the occasion.

She loved the Capitol like that, with all the twinkling lights and the fake snow on the street… She loved it but she couldn’t help but resent it a little because for the first time, she wanted to be _elsewhere_ and it didn’t cheer her up as it used to. The city was too different from her childhood, barely recognizable. Like her, it was bearing the war’s scars and nothing was where it used to be. Even the skating rink on the frozen lake had been moved.

She walked the streets until late in the nights, watching the twinkling lights, feeling like a ghost in a strange place, wishing she could be in an even stranger one. She was remote from everything and everyone. She had been since the war. She tried to smile at the children’s excitement, tried to care about the house decoration contests and to get in the spirit but… She just couldn’t do it. Her heart remained stubbornly numb.

The fact that it had raced so fast at the sound of Haymitch’s voice made her inability to care about something she used to love hurt even more. 

On the third of December she got a crumpled envelope in the mail. She would have recognized the pointy handwriting anywhere. It was barely readable, really. The only reason she could decipher it so easily were years of experience.

She opened it eagerly, not quite surprised when three tickets fell out on her kitchen counter. One for every connection you currently needed to get to Twelve.

There was a note inside, scribbled on a torn out page of a random notebook, folded twice and then clearly flattened out only to have been folded again.

_‘Don’t be mad. I really wanna see you.’_

It took care of one of the problems but not of all. She still couldn’t take off and leave and risk not having a job back the next week…

Or could she?

The thing was… She really, _really_ wanted to go. 

And she wasn’t sure she wanted to come back.

Perhaps staying in the Capitol, trying so hard to find a place where she so obviously wasn’t wanted, hadn’t been her best idea. She had stubbornly clung to the idea that the city was her home, that if she had any chance of finding herself again, of _rebuilding_ herself, it would be there… But what had the city done for her since the war? Called her a traitor? Rejected her for her so-called crimes? Stolen everything from her and left her dirt-poor?

Peeta had finished rebuilding the bakery a few months earlier – he had told her that on their last phone call – perhaps he needed help there. Perhaps she could try in Twelve for a while. Haymitch seemed determined to… What? Court her? Win her back? Give them a real proper chance?

She could try there, couldn’t she?

How expensive could lodgings be in Twelve? She was fairly certain that for the same amount of rent she was currently paying, she could find something bigger there… Assuming anyone would be willing to rent their place to the last surviving escort – not just any escort but _their_ former escort…

Suddenly weary, she sat down on her wobbly stool and took her face in her hands.

What was she thinking? Was she going _mad_?

People would never accept her in Twelve. Never.

_Debatable_ , a voice whispered at the back of her head, the voice that used to belong to the confident Effie Trinket who let nothing stand in her way, _If the children and Haymitch vouch for you, if the victors make a stand… They are respected there and if they make it clear you are part of their team…_

But was she still part of their team? Had she ever been?

_What are you so scared of losing?_ the voice challenged.

Perhaps the vague reassuring hope that Twelve was always there if she needed it. She hadn’t run to it yet because what if she ran there and it didn’t work out? What would be left then? Right then she wasn’t happy and she wasn’t entirely doing well but she was surviving. If you took that away from her… Would she drown?

_Or it could work out…_ the voice insisted, her vowels clipped and her tone snobbish _. Take a chance. When did I become such a coward?_

Effie at least knew the answer to _that_ question. When whips had lashed out and boorish voices had taunted and she had been left alone to rot in her own filth in a cell…

She dropped her hands, grabbed one of the tickets, turned it over and over in her hand…

She hated her job. She hated her apartment. She hated her life. She had no friends. What was left of her family wouldn’t give her the time of day. The war had finished three years earlier but, for her, it might as well have been the day before.

She would go to Twelve, she decided. She would pack and go and try to make a life there. She would _try._

And if it didn’t work out then she would pack up again and try again somewhere else.

_Effie Trinket does not give up_ , her ghost self approved. _There is nowhere to go but up_.

She took a deep breath, held it and then let it out slowly. Her fingers were shaking in a telltale way. Her head felt heavy, filled with cotton.

She didn’t want to have a panic attack. Not now. Not when she was finally feeling a tiny bit like her old self.

She would be bold. She would be _fabulous_. She would be…

She clenched her jaw and grabbed her phone, dialing a number she still knew by heart after all those years.

It took a while for someone to answer the phone and it wasn’t the voice she had been expecting _. “Yeah?”_

“Oh!” she said, surprised. “Hello, Katniss dear.”

_“Oh, hey, Effie!”_ the girl said. Was it her imagination or did she sound relieved? _“Haymitch’s not here. I was dropping stuff for dinner…”_

“I see…” She wasn’t quite sure what to say, she wasn’t quite sure what Katniss knew or not. Peeta was clearly aware their relationship wasn’t purely one of friendship and it would have been logical to assume that the girl knew too but…

_“Did you get his letter?”_ Katniss asked, cutting to the chase.

“Yes, that is why I am calling actually.” she answered, forcing some cheer in her voice.

_“Tell me you’re coming.”_ the girl ordered with that bluntness that had always irked Effie a little. _“He’s been brooding. Brooding means he wants to drink and I don’t want to pick him up at the bottom of a bottle again. He’s worked too hard to get sober. Almost killed him too.”_

She licked her lips, ill-at-ease with the accusation in the girl’s voice. It wasn’t entirely fair to put Haymitch’s sobriety on _her_ shoulders. She had her own demons.

“Do _you_ want me to come?” she retorted, choosing for once to forsake polite conversation for some honestly of her own.

“ _What?_ ” Katniss was clearly frowning.

“You have never been overly fond of me, dear.” she explained. “If I am to come and stay for an unforeseeable future… I do not want to impose on you.”

There was a long silence and then Katniss sighed. _“Effie, you’re part of the team. You’re welcome here. You were always welcome.”_ Another bout of silence, another sigh. _“You left us.”_

That accusation was full of pain and resentment.

“No.” she protested. “I am not the one who left.”

_“But we didn’t have a choice.”_ Katniss pointed out. “You _could have come whenever you wanted.”_

“It is a little more complicated than that.” she argued.

“ _Yeah, it always is.”_ the girl snorted.

She sounded so sure of herself, so confident of her own grievance…

Effie’s hand clenched the phone harder. She tried to bite back the words. She _really_ did. “I am not the one who left the other behind, Katniss. Three times, as it happens. Although I will grant you the third time I was at least _free_ to decide if I should follow or not.” She closed her eyes, regretting the outburst as soon as it happened. “I know it wasn’t your fault. I know. But…”

_“I didn’t know.”_ Katniss cut her off, her voice softening. _“When we went to the arena, I didn’t know. And then… I forgot about you, I’m the one who didn’t put you on the list when they rescued the victors, not Haymitch. I thought you would be okay. We didn’t know where you where but I thought you’d be okay ‘cause you always are. You’re…”_ The girl let out a shallow laugh. _“You’re Effie Trinket, you’re always okay. Aren’t you?”_

“Of course.” The lie came easily. Confident to the point of arrogance. So close to the ghost of who she used to be that it gave her chills. She chose to ignore how easily dismissed her continued imprisonment had been by the girl. Katniss clearly still didn’t know half of it and she liked it better like that. “Still… It does not mean one likes to be abandoned.”

Katniss was silent so long Effie almost thought she had either hung up or the connection had been cut. _“I guess not.”_

“I will take the train today.” she said. Enough had been said on the subject. It was obvious the conversation wasn’t over but they could cover the rest face to face. “Tell Haymitch he can expect me sometimes tomorrow night _…_ I am not sure of the exact time but… I am sure I can find my way to the Village anyway. _”_

She had done it enough time over the years on Reaping Days.

_“There’s been a lot of rebuilding_ …” Katniss warned. _“If you get lost just ask someone to call us, we’ll come get you. Oh and dress warm.”_ the girl added as an afterthought. _“It’s snowing_.”

Of course it was.

Katniss hung up without another form of goodbye but instead of irritating her, it woke up a sort of fondness in her. The girl was as helplessly rude as Haymitch.

She packed everything she owned and it was probably a sad matter of things that it all fitted in a suitcase and a vanity bag. She cast a last glance at the tiny apartment and its cheap Christmas decoration as she was about to shut the front door and didn’t feel any tinge of regret at the thought of never seeing it again.

The train station was busier than she had expected and it had been so long since she had been there that she struggled to find the correct platform.

Like everything else, it had been destroyed during the war and consequently rebuilt anew. The ceiling was all glass now and Effie resolutely stared right at the sky above while she waited to board so she wouldn’t have to acknowledge how _packed_ the place was. She didn’t do well in crowds anymore.

The train was a far cry from the one they used to ride for the Games. There were no compartments. It was all open spaces with bench seats that offered zero privacy and the forced proximity immediately set her on edge.

The first train took her to Six and she had to endure loud children sitting right behind her, hitting the back of her seat every five minutes and screaming loud in her ears. She tried to rest but, not unlike the children, she wasn’t able to fully fall asleep – which was for the best since she didn’t really want to scream herself awake in there.

The second train got her as far as Ten, with several stops in Seven and Nine. An old woman came on board somewhere in Seven and talked her ear off the whole trip, leaving her with a headache. Not that she showed it. She maintained polite chit-chat. She hadn’t been raised in a barn. And it was refreshing to have mindless conversation with a stranger for once – it was rare for people not to know who she was on sight but she supposed nobody expected Twelve’s former escort to be on a train back there.

The last portion of the trip was the most exhausting. She dozed off for most of it. Once they were out of Ten and on their way to Eleven, the tracks weren’t as smooth as they used to be in the rest of the country. There were bumps and the train sometimes slowed down. There were a few stops in Ten, some in Eleven… Once the landscape started becoming more familiar, she changed in the tiny restroom, slipping on the warmest, prettiest clothes she owned.

She was fairly sure it wouldn’t be warm enough but the red velvet dress was better than putting the black slacks and the blue sweater that were probably weather appropriate. At least, she looked good in that dress. It hugged what was left of her curves, the long sleeves went well with the sweetheart neckline and the bottom part bounced around her thighs with every step. She liked it.

She agonized over what to do with her hair for a long time. After a full day train trip, there wasn’t much she could do but hope for the best. The humidity was turning it frizzy and any attempt at taming it would turn out worse so she let it fall in natural curls around her head. It was the way Haymitch loved it best anyway.

The make-up had to be kept simple for fashion’s and her budget’s sake but she still broke out the crimson lipstick she only used sporadically.

For once, she didn’t outright hate the reflection in the mirror.

It would have been better with ruby red heels but her shoe collection was drastically lacking those days and she had to make-do with her black boots. She chose to pretend the scraps didn’t show. She didn’t have money for new ones and they were serviceable.

At least, the red dress would go well with the frayed white coat she had been dragging around since the end of the war. It might be just enough of a pop of color that people would look at it and wouldn’t notice how old the coat actually was.

Getting ready took her mind off the looming reunion but once she was back in her seat and staring at the landscape, she couldn’t help the nerves. She bounced her knee, watching the pine trees flash by…

With every stop, the train had become emptier and emptier. She was alone by the time she caught the familiar landmarks that meant they were just outside of Twelve.

She stood up just because she couldn’t bear sitting down any longer, even knowing it would still be several minutes before they would reach the station. After more than twenty-four hours spent on trains, she was restless.

The changes were obvious and she resisted the urges to press her face against the glass to better see. The fence was gone, the huge steel doors that barred the District’s entrance and were only slid open for incoming trains were a thing of the past. Twelve was open wide to the wilderness now – of course, it was, so had been the other Districts – and from her limited perspective, she caught sight of rows of little houses… She glimpsed the back of the Victors’ Village perched on a hill…

Her heart was racing, her hands were clammy… She grabbed her luggage and dragged them to the doors, not quite sure she was dreading or impatient for the train to stop, for the doors to open…

She almost stumbled when it finally slowed down to a stop. She pressed the button that made the doors slid open, eager for some fresh air. She hadn’t expected it to be _that_ fresh though and it took a second of adjustment before she carefully climbed down the two metallic steps.

It didn’t smell like coal anymore. It was the first thing she noticed. It smelt like fresh snow, most likely because there was a fair coat of it on the platform, the station roof and everywhere in sight. At least snowflakes weren’t falling anymore. She didn’t fancy trying to find her way to the Village in a blizzard…

She struggled with her suitcase, trying to make it roll after her in the two inches deep snow…

“Effie.”

Her head snapped up.

She wasn’t sure how she had missed him before.

The platform was deserted, they were alone and, really, she had never thought he would leave her to hang at the train station, not after he had made such a fuss about her coming, not if he was really determined to give them a chance and prove her he had changed…

Her mouth was suddenly dry. She wasn’t sure what to do or say so she stared instead, studying him. He had aged in those three years. He had lost weight as evidenced by the old frayed grey coat that hung loose on his frame and his sunken cheeks eaten by the familiar stubble, his hair was a little too long and peppered with silver, his eyes were made ever greyer by the weather and they were sharp, conducting their own inspection of her… She could only hope that she looked as stunning as she had aimed for. The red dress on the white snowy background… With some luck, it would be enough that he wouldn’t notice the strikes of grey in her own hair or the lines that were starting to mark her face…

“ _Effie_ …” he said again, almost as if her name _pained_ him.

It brought tears to her eyes.

Could three years be breached in a few steps?

As she ran to him, it felt like it.

She could have gone the awkward route. She could have stayed there, tried to make polite conversation, tried…

She didn’t want to.

She didn’t _want_ to.

Instead, she did the bold ridiculous thing and ran into arms he barely had time to open because, _of course,_ he wasn’t expecting her to just rush at him like that. 

“How undignified of me.” she half-joked, half-choked into his neck.

He held her tighter, pressed his cold nose against the side of her throat. “Who cares, sweetheart?”

She closed her eyes and dropped her forehead on his shoulder and, for the first time in three years, she took a breath that didn’t feel like a struggle. His embrace was so familiar _…_ It made her feel so safe… It made her feel _found,_ as if she had simply been drifting until he finally closed his arms around her and _grounded_ her… His smell… He didn’t carry the vague fumes of liquor anymore but the rest was the same. Cheap soap, faint sweat, firewood… Something so _Haymitch_ that it made her bite down on the inside of her cheek… It made her want to cry. She had missed him. She had missed him so much she felt it down to her bones.

And given the desperation in his own hug, given the way he was not so subtly smelling her hair… He felt the same way.

“You’re shaking…” he mumbled, tearing his face from her neck with visible efforts. “Let’s get you out of the cold.”

“It isn’t the cold.” she whispered, making no move to release him.

His embrace had loosened, his hands drifting to her waist, but it tightened again at her words.

“I miss you.” he offered. “ _Fuck_ , I miss you…”

Present tense still, but that was alright.

She was still missing him too.

It was hard for her brain to accept the yearning for him was over.

_Hopefully_ it was finally over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And they're reunited! Any clue as to what comes next? Let me know your thoughts!


	3. My Love Had Been Frozen Deep Blue (But You Painted Me Golden)

It took ages to convince themselves to let go of each other.

The cold hit her as soon as Haymitch’s arms weren’t wrapped around her anymore and, this time, the shivers had less to do with emotions and more to do with the thinness of her tights and the not warm enough coat. She buttoned it up while Haymitch reached for the handle of her suitcase, burrowing into its meager warmth.

He noticed, of course, and frowned a little. “You’re not dressed for the weather.”

She could have made a quip about fashion, laugh it off as her own silliness and lack of preparation but she was tired of pretending, tired of _lying_. “It is the best I have.”

For a moment, she wasn’t sure he understood or grasped all the implications but then he silently nodded, took off the scarf that hung loosely around his own neck – a hand-knitted pale blue monstrosity with holes in it – and wrapped it around her throat. At the twitch of her eyebrows, he snorted. “We were snowed in for several days last year, Katniss was going crazy so she took up knitting. She ain’t that good.”

She couldn’t help but smile as she brushed her fingers against the – very badly – knitted scarf. It was telling he was still wearing it anyway.

“I could teach her.” she offered.

“She might like that.” He shrugged. “ _Hell_ , _the_ _boy_ would really like that. He’s the one who’s got to wear sweaters with uneven arms. I got off easy with the scarf.”

She chuckled, as was probably the aim, and followed him toward the station’s exit, picking a careful path in the snow. She drifted closer to him because she was cold and she knew he would be warm no matter what – Haymitch was always warm, her own personal heater. She ended up pressed against his side and he tentatively stretched his arm across her shoulders, holding her close.

It was nice for the first few seconds but then it turned awkward really quickly.

They had never done that before.

And she doubted a platform full of snow was the right place to start doing it. Besides, it impeded her movements and made her feel crowded… She didn’t want to offend him though but when she casually shrugged his arm off and rushed to the side of the road with a loud exclamation about _how cute that squirrel was_ , she didn’t think he was fooled.

They ended up walking close again but he didn’t try to put his arm back around her. Their hands bumped against each other with every step though, and she liked that. Sometimes, their fingers accidentally hooked together and remained like that for a few seconds… It was nice. More discreet. More subtle. More like _them_.

“ _Oh_!” she breathed out once they were a few feet away from the station and properly into town. “Katniss was right. It _has_ changed.”

Not unlike the Capitol, she could barely guess at old landmarks.

“The town was completely destroyed during the bombings.” he explained, guiding her to the opposite sidewalk that had been cleared of snow so people could move around more easily. “Chemical fire. There wasn’t much left and what was still standing…” He shook his head. “We couldn’t be sure of the foundations. We had to tear down everything and rebuild it again.”

It showed, even in the dusk’s light.

The houses and shops weren’t identical but it was obvious they had been built on the same basic model and with the same materials. It was all red bricks, with the occasional wall made out of uneven stones… The streets weren’t muddy paths with potholes anymore either. As far as she could tell, everything was cobbled… There was the occasional Christmas decorations on doors and she caught sight of twinkling lights inside… There were lampposts regularly lining up the streets too… An obvious improvement from before…

“What about the Seam?” she asked, curious. “Does it still exist?”

“It mostly survived the bombings.” he said. “But once people got their stuff back, they decided to tear it down and rebuild everything. A lot of people stayed in the Village at first… We had all those empty houses, seemed stupid not to use them. Some of them decided to stay there. Some build new houses… There’s no slums anymore, though. None as obvious as before, at least.” He snorted. “We kept the Hob though. Made it a bit nicer and all… But it’s the Hob alright.”

She strained her neck to take in everything.

Haymitch was completely at ease navigating the streets but it all looked very strange to her and she finally found herself relaxing. She had feared a little that Twelve would be a giant slap in the face, that it would bring everything back, but… It was so different from what it used to be… And it was… Well, it was _lovely_. Particularly with all the lit windows and the occasional Christmas decoration.

From what she was seeing, she doubted there were a lot more than a thousand souls in the District. Between the people who hadn’t escaped the bombings and the ones who had chosen to try elsewhere… Twelve probably remained the smaller – and poorer – District of Panem, but its inhabitants had made it _theirs_ in a way none other had managed from what she had seen on her trip there.

It took her a few minutes to figure out he was taking her to where the Square used to be instead of heading to the Village. She followed without comment, choosing to trust him.

It became clear quickly that the Square was the heart of the District.

For one thing, the closer they got to it, the busier the streets became. She understood why when they finally exited a narrow alley unto the square proper.

The whipping post was gone.

That was the first thing she noticed.

The whipping post was gone and the square wasn’t large enough to host a stage plus the whole District anymore – that was the second thing she noticed – but it was still a respectable size and there were a few benches scattered around it, naked trees that would bloom again in spring and grow stronger for decades to come… And, most of all, it was lined with darling little shops that were still brightly lit despite the time, most of which had adopted a Christmas themed window display to match the huge Christmas tree that stood in the middle of the square…

“No Justice Building?” she asked, looking at where the imposing building used to stand.

“It’s not as tall.” Haymitch said, as if he was reading her mind. “You can’t see it from afar. It’s a few streets over. People were tired of their government looming over them. We wanted it out of the way.”

She nodded distractedly, glancing around the square. “So, Peeta’s bakery…”

“Right there.” He pointed at one of the lit shops and then placed his hand at the small of her back in a natural move. She could tell he didn’t even notice he had done it.

It was obvious they were headed to the bakery and she took a deep breath, suddenly nervous again. She wanted to see the children, of course, but…

“They’re impatient to see you.” he told her, his tone soft. “They made me swear I’d take you here first thing.”

She pursed her lips, more amused than annoyed. “You need to stop doing that.”

He frowned. “What?” 

“Read my mind.” she joked.

“Ain’t my fault you’re thinking so loud… Must be all that hairspray…” he teased.

She rolled her eyes and huffed, quickening her pace to leave him behind. She could see them through the shop window. Peeta was behind the counter and Katniss was in front of him, her back to the street, leaning on the counter, her elbows on the gleaming wood…

The store front was full of gingerbread houses and men, Christmas puddings and Yule logs…

She froze on the threshold, her hand on the steel handle… She was keenly aware that Haymitch had stopped behind her, giving her the time she needed to _process_ … Or, more accurately, _freak_ _out_.

The children were laughing about something and, as usual when he was with her, Peeta’s attention was solely focused on Katniss. But Effie must have made some move because his blue eyes drifted from his girlfriend to her and he _beamed_ at her. He started getting out from behind the counter, Katniss started turning around and, in the space between one breath and the next, this was happening whether she wanted it to or not so she chose to get in control of things.

She pushed the door and walked inside, a bright smile stretching her lips, a mask of cheerfulness she hadn’t bothered to wear in three years slipping back on her face. It still fitted like a glove.

“My darlings!” she exclaimed.

Peeta was in her arms before she could say much else and she clung to him with a little too much despair. He clung back though.

The bond between them had always been deeper than the one she had forged with Katniss. Peeta had always been her favorite, the one she would have bet on if Haymitch hadn’t chosen Katniss during the Seventy-Fourth Hunger Games. Their time at the tender mercy of the Capitol – a time that, if she understood correctly, the boy barely recalled – had only cemented their relationship.

“I’ve missed you so much!” Peeta offered, squeezing her tight around the middle to the point her ribs hurt. He could feel them, she could tell. He could feel exactly how bony she was under her thin coat and, though he relaxed his grip, he also drew back and gave her a good hard look before glancing at Haymitch.

She didn’t want to know what conclusions they would silently share so she stepped out of the boy’s embrace and turned to Katniss, both arms stretched out.

The girl suffered the hug and the subsequent fussing over with good grace.

Effie babbled about how lovely the bakery looked and how well they seemed and how pretty Twelve looked and about the long train ride… She was still babbling when Peeta disappeared in the kitchen and came back with a plate of strawberry and chocolate cupcakes that, he explained, he had baked _especially_ for her.

She was so unused to rich food nowadays, so used to only eating a meal a day that she barely finished half of it. She kept babbling to cover how uneasy she was feeling because the tables had clearly turned and she wasn’t sure how to deal with that. She didn’t remember the last time she had actually eaten. Before she had gotten on the train. But she wasn’t starving. Or, if she was, she was too used to it to notice.

And there they were, her little victors, clearly well fed, clearly well off…

The cupcake was delicious and the boost of sugar would be welcome but it left her a little nauseous too.

She was aware her chit-chat was taking a hysterical edge and she also noticed the long worried looks the children were sharing but she couldn’t stop. She was a little scared that if she stopped talking she would crumble in a pool of tears.

“Look, it’s a long train ride from the city…” Haymitch cut in at some point, putting an end to her painful monologue about the weather. “How about you wrap those cakes to go, boy? She can finish them tomorrow for breakfast.”

“Cupcakes are _not_ proper breakfast food.” she scoffed, but her shoulders slouched a little in relief.

“Don’t worry. I’ve got blueberry muffins.” he mocked. “Enough to share even.”

She relaxed, her smile softening from its manic edge to something a little more genuine. Somehow, she was glad he remembered her favorite muffins were blueberry – not hard since it was his too – and she enjoyed the reminder that they used to fight over them.

“I _am_ a little tired.” she admitted.

“You’re not showing her tonight?” Katniss asked, sounding surprised. “That’s all I’ve been hearing about for three years and now that you finally got her here, you’re not showing her?”

“She’s tired.” Haymitch snapped. “And there’s no rush.”

Effie pouted, not quite happy about being talked about as if she was not in the room.

“It would look better in the dark…” Peeta pointed out, a little hesitantly. “I mean… You could have a quick look right now and show her the rest tomorrow… Besides, you had me bring the…” His blue eyes darted to her and back to Haymitch. “ _You_ _know_. I mean, I can go get him and bring him back home with me but Buttercup isn’t exactly his biggest fan.”

“Manners.” She clucked her tongue. “What are you all talking about?”

She directed her question at Katniss because she was the most likely to give a direct answer.

The girl didn’t disappoint. “Your _gift_.”

She put so much sarcasms in that word that Effie frowned a little and turned to Haymitch. “I assumed it was at your house…”

Katniss snorted. Loudly.

Haymitch shot her a warning glare. “It sort of is, sort of isn’t.”

“What does that mean?” she insisted.

Peeta grinned. “It means that it depends how much you like the gift.” He buried his hands in his pockets and flashed Haymitch a sheepish smile. “Maybe I’m impatient for her to see it too. I _helped,_ after all.”

“Oh, you did?” Effie was pleased by that and didn’t bother hiding it. She liked the idea that they had still been thinking about her even in her absence. It made her feel a little more welcome. Maybe she _had_ been stupid. Maybe she should just have come sooner…

“I helped too if anyone cares.” Katniss muttered.

“Of course I care, dear.” Effie instantly cooed, feeling better and better about this visit. Perhaps there was nothing to dread after all?

“Ain’t sure it was such a good idea after all…” Haymitch awkwardly mumbled, stealing what was left of her cupcake and finishing it in a couple of bites. “It’d be better tomorrow. In daylight.”

Katniss scorned. “You’re telling me I spent half the night yesterday slaving for nothing?”

“I’m telling you you’re a pain in my ass.” he retorted.

“Do not fight on my account.” she cut in, her tone a little too pleading. She licked her lips, resisted the urge to protectively hug herself. “I apologize, I _am_ rather tired…”

“Look… It’s a small detour to the Village.” Peeta insisted. “Get the… _You_ _know_ … at least. Keep the rest a surprise for tomorrow.”

“I’ll take the suitcase. I’m going home anyway.” Katniss offered. “I’ll start on dinner.”

The three of them were so used to working together, they didn’t even realize it was like watching a whirlwind – or a well-oiled machine. Peeta stayed behind to close the shop, Katniss soon disappeared in the narrow streets with her pink suitcase in tow and Haymitch stirred Effie in the vague direction of what she thought to be the old Seam but she couldn’t tell, not when everything was so different.

There were worse things than walking close to Haymitch at night in pretty streets though.

It was a little surreal but it was also sort of nice.

“I probably lost my job.” she announced, apropos of nothing. “I did not exactly told them I was leaving.”

He glanced at her. “Do you care?”

He was slouching a little to fight the wind, his hands were in his pockets and he didn’t startle at all when she looped an arm around his elbow. He stood a little straighter. Just a little. It pleased her.

“Not really.” she hummed. “I wasn’t particularly attached to it.” She remained silent for a while, watching the brick houses. “I did not have the best three years.”

“Me neither.” he sighed. “I was… I was in a bad place when Katniss and I came back.” He snorted. “Funny how you think you’re at rock bottom but you can always sink lower, ain’t it?” He shook his head. “A while after Peeta came back… Almost drowned in my own puke. The boy had to give me CPR. Not fun for either of us, let me tell you…” His jaw clenched. “I was missing you.”

“Do not put that on me.” she snapped.

She loosened her grip on his arm, moved to step away but he covered her hand on his elbow, kept it there.

“Ain’t saying it was your fault, sweetheart.” he said softly. “It’s just… It was a lot. All the people who died… How easily the rebels kicked me out like I was worth nothing… The kids… The kids weren’t a piece of cake, you know? Katniss was… She still ain’t alright some days. Peeta ain’t either. And I was failing them. I _knew_ I was.” He shrugged. “You were always good at keeping us together, at keeping us… I don’t know… I guess it’s easier when you’re here to boss us around. So I missed that. And… more selfishly I missed _you_.”

She stopped trying to move away but she was a little tense. “I was angry.”

She could admit that freely. She had been furious. At him. At the world. At everyone. At herself most of all perhaps.

“I know. I was too.” he offered. “You know the worst thing?” He seemed to hesitate, as if he wasn’t sure he wanted to say the next bit aloud. “At that point… And it was a low point… I missed the Games.”

“Oh.” It wasn’t what she had been expecting. She wrapped her second arm around his. She wasn’t sure why. To anchor herself to him, perhaps. Or because there was a kinship there that nobody else would have shared.

“I _know_.” He scowled. “After everything… It wasn’t the Games themselves, you know, it was…”

“I _do_ know.” she whispered. “I missed it too, I still do sometimes.”

The regularity of it. The routine. The way her whole life revolved around the Games. Easy. Uncomplicated.

It wasn’t the sport or the dead children, she missed. She was happy _that_ was gone. But she missed the glory of it all, the glitter, the red carpets and the endless parties, how easy it had all seemed… She missed… She missed the other escorts, even Viola Summercket and their endless rivalry. She missed having people around who could relate to what she was feeling, who were going through the same thing she was, who _understood_ her on a level nobody would ever again.

It might have been a little different for Haymitch though. He had never cared about the fame or the spotlights but… He had cared about his friends. He had cared about escaping his self-imposed prison once a year. He had cared about _her_.

“The first spring…” he said, his voice rough. “There was no Reaping… We had a party in the Village cause the rest of the District was still in ruins… It really _sank_ then. That you were never coming back. That Chaff was dead. That I wouldn’t get to see him that summer.” He snorted but it wasn’t amused. “There was never really time to let that sink before, you know? That he was…” His sentence trailed off and she didn’t try to finish it for him. “He was my best friend.”

“I know.” She squeezed his arm. “I _know_.”

“It was a happy day.” he continued. “It was supposed to be anyway. But I was just so… _sad_.”

It probably had brought back everything. Not just Chaff’s death but Finnick’s, Mags’, Seeder’s, Alina’s… People he considered _family_.

“You felt guilty about being sad.” It wasn’t such a far-stretched guess. She was struggling with that herself some days. Regretting the way things used to be because it had been easier for her when she knew it had meant death to thousands of people…

“I drank all I had in the house.” he sighed. “I wanted to _die_ , sweetheart. I was furious when I woke up at the clinic. I was done. I wanted… Peeta said _stuff_ though.” He rolled his eyes, humor coming back to his voice. “I hate it when he’s being his self-righteous little _shit_.”

“What did he say?” she asked slowly, not entirely sure she wanted to know.

He didn’t answer at once. “That I didn’t get to quit when so many people were dead.”

How commonplace.

And simple.

“They do not understand at all, do they?” she commented.

It was an easy stance to take for Peeta and Katniss who had been sixteen or seventeen at the time but… Haymitch had been struggling to keep going for decades. Twenty-five years of Games and maybe Peeta would have seen Haymitch’s point more easily… But the children had never seen the mentor side of things, they had never been forced to deal with being treated like an object for sale, they had never been forced to watch as children you were responsible for were murdered in front of you year after year… And that was for the best. But still…

It didn’t diminish what they had been through, of course, because nobody could deny they had been through _too_ _much_ … But youth had a way to endure where age made it difficult.

“No, they don’t.” he confirmed. “But that’s fine. I’m supposed to take care of them, not the other way around. That’s fair.” He stopped walking so she stopped too. They seemed to have reached the end of the town, the streets gave in on a bare expense of wilderness, there was a bushy path leading up to the woods that surrounded the District… He gently untangled his arm from hers so he could face her. “He also said if I was so unhappy about how my life had turned out, I should try fixing what I could. That wasn’t so unhelpful advice, actually.” He reached for her face, brushed gloved fingers against her cheekbone in the gentlest caress… Her skin was mostly numb from the cold but she felt it down to her core. “I wasn’t sure of much but I was sure I wanted you back. So…”

“So you got sober and you started a mysterious project that lasted three years?” she teased to mask how emotional she actually felt.

“Pretty much.” He chuckled and let his hand drop off her face. “Alright, close your eyes.”

She frowned. “Why?”

“Come on, you like surprises, yeah?” he insisted.

“Not so much anymore.” she said, placing her hands in his outstretched ones. “But I trust you.”

For better or for worse, to the risk of ending up in hell again and despite all her senses, she trusted him.

It took an awfully long time for him to guide her where he wanted her to go and she almost twisted her ankle three times. She was very tempted to peek because it was obvious to her they had left the cobbled lanes behind and she wasn’t sure where he was taking her.

When he finally stopped, they couldn’t have been that far from their starting point. Guiding her with eyes closed and not breaking her neck must have been a lot of work…

“Can I look?” she asked, a little impatiently.

“Not yet.” he hurriedly answered. “Give me a minute.”

He dropped her hands, then, and she was left standing there alone, with her eyes closed, the wind biting hard at her legs and face… She heard faint barking in the distance and it was very difficult for her _not_ to give in and look. Were the dogs nice or would they rip her to shreds? She trusted Haymitch not to have abandoned her in the middle of danger but…

“Here.” he said, strangely out of breath. “You can open your eyes now.”

She batted her eyelashes a few times, not quite sure that what she was seeing was really there. They were outside of town, not far enough that she couldn’t see the first few houses but far enough that there wasn’t any chance of accidentally stepping in someone’s backyard. And there, in the no man’s land between the town and the woods, a house was standing. A big one. Two stories high, with a wrap-around porch and a crimson red painted door… The house itself was gorgeous but the best thing about it was that it was decked from base to roof in _Christmas lights_.

Fairy lights rained down from the roof, multicolor twinkling lights were wrapped all around the gutters, the windows, the front door, the banisters and the porch’s wooden beans… There was a swing seat there that was also wrapped in tinsels…

There was no light from inside the house itself, whoever lived there clearly wasn’t home…

“What do you think?” Haymitch asked, sounding torn between eagerness and dreadfulness.

“I think you found the only other person in the whole world who loves Christmas as much as I do!” she laughed. “It is so pretty!”

“And the house?” he insisted. “Do you like the house?”

His question was so urgent, so _pressing_ that she gave the house a second look. It was gorgeous, truth be told, all the more so dressed for Christmas… “It is quite big, isn’t it?”

She hadn’t seen many houses like that in town but perhaps that explained why it was standing a little to the side, midway to the wilderness.

It clearly wasn’t what he had been after because his face closed. He slouched a little, buried his hands in his pockets again and winced a little. “I guess…”

She wasn’t certain what was going on but the mood was quickly turning awkward and she cleared her throat. “Did you want to show me the Christmas lights? It does not look like anybody’s home…”

“Yeah, no…” he muttered. “I wanted… I’ve got something for you.”

“Oh, is it my gift?” she beamed. “You did say it was not entirely at your house… Which makes no sense to me, but…”

“It’s part of it.” he said. “Get ready.”

And then he brought his fingers to his mouth and, without warning, he whistled.

She wasn’t certain what she was supposed to get ready for at first but then she saw a blurry shape darting around the corner of the house and coming straight at them… She stepped back instinctively, startled and a little scared.

The heel of her boot hit an icy spot and before she understood what was going on, she was going down with a shriek. The first thing that registered was the rather hard landing. She fell straight on her bottom and she was fairly sure it would smart for a couple of days – and that was if it didn’t bruise. The second thing she registered was that the blurry shape was jumping on top of her.

She didn’t have time to shriek again or even to lift her arms to protect her face.

The thing was already jumping all over her legs and around her, _climbing_ her so it could reach her face…

“ _Shit_ , are you okay?” Haymitch asked, crouching down next to her. When the thing tried to climb on _him_ , he gently pushed it aside.

That was when she realized the _thing_ was a tiny dog – a _puppy,_ really – and that it wasn’t trying to eat her or attack her but to _lick her face_. And once she had that realization, she quickly decided this was the _prettiest_ puppy in the whole country. It was small and white and extremely fluffy with two black beady eyes…

“Oh, aren’t you lovely!” she exclaimed. It brought the puppy’s attention back to her and, this time, when it tried to jump on her, she happily wrapped her arms around it and buried her face in its fur. It smelled like snow and the woods but, she was happy to see, he wasn’t dirty at all like one would expect a white puppy to be in Twelve.

“You like him?” Haymitch sounded a little relieved. “The trainer’s little girl named him Fluff but you can change it if you want… He’s house broken but he’s got a thing for shoes so don’t leave any where he can find them or he’s gonna chew them away… He knows to sit but the rest is a bit of a work in progress… He’s trained to answer if you whistle though.”

“He is for me?” she beamed, holding the puppy tighter. She had thought he was joking about possibly getting her a puppy. She had thought…

He snorted. “Yeah. Thought _that_ was clear.”

She studied him, noting the smirk that was slowly stretching his lips.

“I suppose I will have to stay in Twelve, then, won’t I?” she replied. His innocent expression needed work. “And I suppose…” she continued. “I suppose we could share him. It is only fair after all…”

He was still crouching and she was still sitting in the snow – and her butt _was_ going quite numb from cold – so when he slowly leaned down, she angled her head up… His lips brushed against hers in something that wasn’t quite a kiss and…

The puppy hit both of their heads in its enthusiastic impatience to offer its affection…

Effie laughed and kissed the dog’s head instead.

Haymitch snorted but he was still smirking. “Come on… Let’s get you out of the snow and up to the Village before you get a cold. Besides… Katniss must have dinner ready by now.”

She let him help her back to her feet but frowned when he jogged to the side of the house. Fluff – she was _definitely_ keeping the name – ran after him and then, upon seeing Effie wasn’t following, ran back to her before heading back toward Haymitch, clearly undecided… The Christmas lights suddenly went dead and the house was plunged in the dark.

At Effie’s curious look when he walked back, Haymitch waved a dismissive hand. “There’s an emergency generator out back. Electricity still ain’t quite reliable around here. The amount of power to keep the Christmas lights on… It would make the whole District go dark so it’s hooked up on the generator instead.”

She supposed the house belonged to the puppy’s trainer and that he had allowed Haymitch to show her the Christmas decorations in their absence. She was surprised not to hear more dogs but she figured they could be kept on the other side of the building or, maybe, the family had taken them with them wherever they had gone on vacation.

“Are you good friends with the owner?” she asked curiously.

Haymitch paused for a moment and then gently guided her up the path that would lead them back toward town and the Village. “Yeah, you could say that.”

She couldn’t help but look back over her shoulder even though the lights were gone. It had looked magical in the snow.

But, most of all, she was happy about the little ball of fur that was running and jumping around their legs, wandering ahead but never far enough that it didn’t come rushing back every time Haymitch whistled.

“Thank you, Haymitch.” she whispered, looping both arms around his and pressing against his side. “This is the best Christmas gift I had in a long time.”

“He’s not _the_ gift.” he insisted. “He’s just…”

“I mean reaching out to me.” she cut him off. “Making me come.”

He was silent a beat longer than she had expected given the pun she had just handed him on a silver platter.

“Well…” he drawled out. “We both know I’m _very_ good at making you come…”

When she slapped his arm with a faked irritated huff, he laughed.

And for a little while it was like no time had passed at all…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo one part of the mysterious gift is revealed: enter Fluff the puppy! (Yes, I know, what is it with me and hayffie and Samoyeds, what can I say, I have become obsessed with post mj hayffie with dogs idk why) The team is back together! Hayffie seems in good way! 
> 
> Any idea as to what the gift will be? 
> 
> Let me know your thoughts!!!


	4. You Wear Your Best Apology (But I Was There To Watch You Leave)

Stepping inside Haymitch’s kitchen was a relief. It was warm, both because of the heating system and the stove, and if the dog’s happy barks were any clue, Effie wasn’t the only one who was relieved to be out of the cold. She smiled at Katniss and Peeta while she unbuttoned her coat.

“So?” the boy pressed. “What did you think?”

“I love him! He is the prettiest dog in the whole universe!” she exclaimed, crouching down to pet the puppy who had immediately adopted her.

“No, I mean…” She caught Haymitch making wild gestures from the corner of her eye. Peeta frowned and exchanged a look with Katniss but didn’t miss a beat and swiftly changed tracks. It left her confused and a little wary. “I wouldn’t leave shoes where he can find them, though.” the boy joked. “He’s cunning. He sneaks into wardrobes.”

“He simply knows what he likes.” she dismissed. Fluff rolled on his back and she obligingly scratched his belly. “Don’t you, my pretty boy? Yes, you _do_. You are the nicest boy in all Panem.”

“Fifteen minutes and the dog’s already spoiled.” Haymitch snorted.

“I can’t say I’m surprised.” Katniss teased.

Effie pursed her lips and huffed at the lot of them, pretending to be vexed. The dog, she noticed, made himself right at home in Haymitch’s house. Someone – she supposed Peeta who was always thoughtful – had prepared a bowl of water and a bowl of food for him. Since the puppy wandered off and nobody was doing the polite thing, she took off her coat and went to hang it on the hat stand in the corridor herself.

She _wasn’t_ snooping but she couldn’t help a glance into the living-room on her way back and she froze when she saw all the empty cardboard boxes stacked against the walls. A few of them were lying open in the middle of the room, half-filled with books. There were empty spots in the middle of Haymitch’s overflowing shelves.

She was frowning a little when she came back into the kitchen but she might not have said anything about it – how rude to pointblank remark on it – if Peeta hadn’t noticed her puzzled expression. “Are you alright, Effie?”

“Absolutely.” She forced a smile that didn’t reach her eyes and decided to ask because… What was the point of making her come all the way to Twelve if he was just… “Are you moving somewhere, Haymitch?”

Understanding flashed on his face and he immediately shook his head. “Just doing some cleaning up.”

It was a lie and an obvious one. You didn’t need a dozen empty boxes to _clean up_.

Uneasy, she smiled harder and took the seat Katniss waved her in at the kitchen table. It wasn’t long before Peeta dropped a generous portion of stew on her plate – a little _too_ generous, in fact. Effie focused on eating because there was too much and it was too good and it had been too long since she had been able to afford something like that. The conversation was halted and a little awkward at first, she couldn’t help but think it was because of her questions about the boxes, but the mood soon relaxed.

At first, Effie regaled them with stories of the models at the agency she worked at and their ridiculous antics but after a few mouthfuls she fell silent. She had barely cleared half the plate and she felt uncomfortably full but she didn’t want to cause offense by not finishing everything. People in Twelve were touchy about food and she knew Haymitch, particularly, hated wasting of any kind.

He must have caught her silent distress though because he casually grabbed what was left on her plate and transferred it to his without missing a beat of his conversation with Katniss. If the children thought it strange, they didn’t show it. Peeta was too good at pretending nothing was amiss to spare her sensibilities and Katniss… Katniss’ grey eyes tracked her every move but she didn’t say anything. And yet when time came for dessert and the pie the boy had baked, the girl was careful to give her the smallest slice, for which Effie was grateful.

The pie was delicious but forcing herself to eat it was torture.

She wasn’t used to eating that much anymore.

Peeta excused himself right after dinner with a hard concealed yawn. He needed to be up at dawn to make bread for the bakery and he couldn’t really linger. He kissed Effie’s cheek before leaving though and pecked Katniss’ lips, which pleased the former escort to no end. It was good to see the children happy.

The meal was weighting on her stomach and she didn’t feel that good so she muttered a comment about freshening up with a smile and escaped upstairs.

Her pink suitcase had been left in the corridor, halfway between the guest room and the master bedroom. Clearly, Katniss hadn’t been sure where Effie was planning to sleep. After a moment of hesitation, she dragged the suitcase into the guest room and hurried into the en-suite bathroom.

For a few uncomfortable minutes, she wasn’t sure if she would be sick or not.

She would need to work on her appetite, she mused, to train her body to accept three meals a day – real meals, not the quick bowls of powdered soup she sometimes sipped because it was cheaper.

Eventually, once she was certain the nausea was simply inconvenient, she splashed water on her face and fixed her make-up and her hair as much as she could. Fluff was barking downstairs and she would have to make a reappearance at some point so she quietly took the stairs, curious as to what the commotion was about.

The dog had fallen silent again by the time she made it close to the kitchen but she heard the back door closing and she figured Haymitch had let him go out. She would have made her presence known but Katniss’ voice echoed before she could, clearly continuing a conversation.

“So you didn’t tell her?” the girl scoffed. “Haymitch…”

“I know.” he groaned. “But if she doesn’t like it…”

“Well, I’ve always said the whole idea was crazy, so…” Katniss snorted.

“Yeah, thanks.” Haymitch grumbled. “I’ll be sure to stop by when it all goes to _shit_ so you can say I told you so.” 

Effie leaned against the wall, frowning again. More mysteries. And mysteries made her wary. There had been no words about the gift he had made her come for, too. She didn’t want to ask – how rude – but she was fairly sure she was missing something and…

“It won’t go to _shit_.” the girl countered quietly. “She came, didn’t she? And she likes the dog, that’s something.”

“Oh, sure… She likes the dog so it’s all good.” Haymitch mocked, his accent thickening like always when he was being particularly sarcastic. “You’ve got no idea what I put that woman through. I should be grateful she’s even giving me the time of day…” He scoffed. “Now that she’s here… Maybe you’re right. Maybe it’s too crazy.”

Effie folded her arms in front of her chest, uncomfortable with the eavesdropping. She silently eased back toward the steps, planning on pretending to make some noise so they would hear her come and not know she had overheard.

“She’s not doing well, is she?” Katniss asked before she could put her plan into motion. “She barely ate anything and she looks… She’s too thin. And she looks tired. You think it’s fashion _bullshit_ or…”

“No.” Haymitch cut her off. “I don’t think it’s fashion _bullshit_ but that’s not for you to worry about.”

Effie clenched her jaw but stomped her feet louder than she normally would anyway so they would have time to redirect the conversation. She felt the remarks keenly though. She knew she wasn’t that beautiful anymore but it still hurt to hear that they…

She didn’t meet Haymitch’s eyes when she walked back in the kitchen, barely noticed his face softening.

“Oh, I would have done the dishes, Katniss!” she exclaimed, far too cheerfully. “You already made dinner, it is only fair!”

“It’s fine, I don’t mind.” the girl dismissed, looking her over. “You’re okay?”

“Of course.” she beamed. “Why wouldn’t I be?” She had lost count of the number of times the children had asked her that particular question that night. And suddenly, it was too much. Their concern, their warm gazes, the fact that they obviously didn’t believe her to be alright… “I am terribly sorry but I think I will turn in. The trip was exhausting.”

“Sure.” Katniss shrugged, a spark of amusement dancing in her eyes. “You should get some rest cause tomorrow’s gonna be a big, big, _big_ day.”

“Is that so?” she asked, lifting an eyebrow.

“Haymitch is giving you your gift tomorrow.” the girl declared in a tone that broke no argument. She also tossed Haymitch a warning look. “Trust me, you want to be rested for _that_.”

“I will follow your advice then.” she agreed, eager to escape the kitchen and their presence. She was used to being alone almost all the time now. She had forgotten how overwhelming other people could be. She hugged the girl goodnight and hesitated in front of Haymitch before dropping a light kiss on his cheek.

She knew her escape was obvious but neither of them called her out on it.

She left the bedroom door open – she couldn’t bear the feeling of being trapped anymore – and got ready for bed. It was no surprise to her to find she couldn’t quite relax enough to fall asleep. The room was too unfamiliar, she startled every time something cracked or buzzed in the house and the stress of the last couple of days was playing havoc with her brain.

She heard Haymitch going up the stairs, heard the echoing padded feet of the puppy following after him… Haymitch mumbled something she couldn’t quite catch in the corridor, probably to the dog, and next thing she knew something was jumping on her bed. She didn’t have time to be scared because a warm tongue licked her cheek and she half-huffed half-chuckled.

“You have the worst breath and you absolutely are _not_ sleeping in my bed.”

Fluff, as it turned out, definitely _was_ sleeping in her bed.

The puppy was warm and having him there reassured her a little because _surely_ nobody would hurt her with a dog to defend her?

Still, she couldn’t doze off, not even once the dog was snoring.

Her brain wouldn’t stop turning everything over. And it was _a lot_ to turn over.

At long last, tired of tossing and turning, she gave up on trying to sleep and slipped out of bed. It was cold and she shivered in her peach silk nightgown but she left the bedroom anyway, thinking she would creep downstairs and watch some TV for a while. It might distract her long enough for her brain to shut down and her eyelids to droop.

She changed her mind once she was in the corridor and she noticed the light spilling from under Haymitch’s closed door.

She headed there without really thinking about it, as if her feet had a mind of their own. She didn’t even knock before pushing the door open, which was the utmost of rudeness.

She wasn’t sure what she had been hoping to find. Perhaps exactly that: Haymitch, bare-chested despite the chill in the air, sitting in his poorly made bed, with sheets and comforter pooling around a middle-section that was going soft, a book propped open on his bent legs and the old silver framed reading glasses she had long ago forced him to purchase on his nose. She wasn’t the only one who had the occasional vanity issues and, as usual, he lost no time in putting the glasses down on the bedside table. They were for comfort – or they had been once upon a time, she had no clue if his sight had worsened lately and she doubted he had had his eyes checked without her to nag him about it.

“You’re okay, sweetheart?” he asked with a small frown. “You need something?”

His eyes wandered.

It was quick and he forced them back up to her face almost immediately but she saw the way he glanced at her legs, at her chest… The peach nightgown was a little washed out from wear but it was cute enough, not sexy, she didn’t own any sexy lingerie anymore but… Cute was good. He clearly liked what he was seeing.

She liked that he liked it.

She liked that he had looked.

She waved at the empty spot next to him on the bed. “Do you mind?” She didn’t miss the flash of panic on his face and whatever courage had brought her there deserted her. Suddenly, she wondered what she was playing at, sneaking in his bedroom in the middle of the night. “I’m sorry.” she immediately apologized. “I did not mean to intrude. I will…”

“I _don’t_ mind.” he cut her off quickly, his eyes darting around the messy bedroom, zeroing on the armchair that was covered with layers of clothes in various degrees of cleanliness. The house wasn’t a dumpster any longer and it was clearly looked after but it still wasn’t as spotless as she would have preferred it for herself. She wasn’t sure how he wanted to do this, how he intended to give _them_ a chance, but if she were to stay in that house with him, some things would need to change. “Can you toss me the sweatpants?”

She followed her gaze to the armchair and found the mentioned pair of sweatpants half hanging from the back of it.

She lifted her eyebrows, a little less tense suddenly. “Are you naked?”

He froze for a second and then rolled his eyes. “Couldn’t know you’d visit me so late, now, could I? You know I don’t like pajamas…”

She bit back her grin and stepped around the bed, leaving the sweatpants where they were. “It’s alright. It’s nothing I have not seen before, is it?”

He tracked her every move, particularly when she lifted the sheets to slip inside the bed. She immediately sighed in relief at the barrier against the cold. She wasn’t sure how he could stand to sit there bare-chested but, once she had fluffed the unused pillow behind her so she could lean against the headboard, she tugged the comforter up to her chin.

Finally, he closed his books and tossed it on the nightstand with his glasses, and turned to his side. “Is this a booty call?”

He was teasing her. It was written on every inch of his face.

“No.” she answered quite frankly.

If he was disappointed, it didn’t show. “Too bad.”

“I may change my mind yet.” she replied, not quite sure why she had purred the words in a seductive tone. She didn’t remember the last time she had felt the urge to be _seductive_.

“Here’s to that, then.” he snorted, arranging his own pillow so he could comfortably watch her.

She stared back.

He was the same man she remembered and yet different.

Three years and a war would do that to anyone.

She wondered what he was seeing when he looked at her.

“Do you still have nightmares?” she asked because she felt compelled to say something.

“Sometimes.” He dropped his eyes, his tone becoming more serious. She wasn’t entirely used to this side of him. A completely sober Haymitch had been rare, he had always preferred to hide behind his liquor or his sarcasm than face difficult topics. “Nothing as bad as before though.” His fingers drummed a nervous beat on the comforter and he paused as if he was deliberating how much to share. “I’ve been working with Doctor Aurelius. You know, he’s the kids’…”

“I remember.” she acknowledged, unable to hide the surprise from her voice.

Haymitch was the last person she would have expected to start a therapy. She had been shocked when he had told her he loved her on the phone. Those words… She knew better than anyone that he had a complicated relationship with them. She wondered how much of his work with Doctor Aurelius had been dedicated to _that_.

“Yeah, well… “ He sighed. “I should be alright to sleep with. I keep the knife in the nightstand nowadays. And the nightmares ain’t as violent. Shouldn’t be too dangerous. I guess. In theory.”

That was a lot of _theory_.

It was her turn to avert her eyes. “Haven’t you shared your bed once in three years?”

Even when they had been in the purely physical aspect of their affair, they had ended up falling asleep in the same bed once or twice. It happened.

“Subtle, sweetheart.” he mocked without heat. “You know, you wanna ask if I’ve been with someone else, you can.”

“It is none of my business, of course.” she deflected, tugging on a loose thread on the comforter. She could mend that for him before it left a hole, she mused, it would be easy enough if he had a needle and some thread. “We were not together.”

She hadn’t meant to say _were_ instead of _are_ but she could tell he hadn’t missed the slip. She could also tell it pleased him. She hadn’t noticed how tense he was until he relaxed.

“It felt like cheating.” he said.

She glanced up at him, not even trying to turn her slightly bitter smile into anything else. “I have never mistaken you for a monk, Haymitch. I do not expect you to have remained celibate for three years. As I said, it is none of my business but…”

“But you want to know.” he finished for her, tilting his head to the side.

“I do not care about the sex part. I simply want to know if any of them counted.” she whispered, sinking down the bed a little, instinctively burrowing more in the sheets as if to better shield herself from his answer.

Why did she do that sort of things to herself? What did it matter if he had…

“There were only two.” he said reluctantly. “I told you I had relapses. Those women… They happened when I was back on the bottle. Told you… It felt too much like cheating.” She opened her mouth but he shook his head. “It _did_ , Effie. I don’t care for anyone else when I’m sober. When I’m drunk I can pretend.” He slowly reached for her hand, covered it with his… “They were one night stands. Can’t even really remember it. They didn’t count ‘cause they weren’t you.”

_I am not quite me_ , she wanted to argue but she nodded instead, forced a poor excuse of a smile on her lips…

His thumb slowly stroke the back of her hand.

His voice was rough, hesitant. “How many men?”

It was fair, she supposed. If she got to ask, so could he.

“Does it matter?” she challenged.

“Guess not.” He shrugged. “Not if you didn’t go and fall in love with one of them…”

She was tempted to lie, to tell him there had been a string of lovers just to get even… It hurt that he had slept with someone else. Even if she knew it wouldn’t have been fair to hold it against him. Even if she knew they hadn’t been together and he didn’t owe her any sort of explanation. Even if she knew he wasn’t old enough yet that his body didn’t have its wants that a drunk brain would be eager to satisfy. It still hurt.

She wanted to lie.

To hurt him like he had hurt her in the past.

But that would have been falling back on old patterns and old patterns had proven toxic and unhealthy. They needed to do better if they wanted a real shot.

“There were none.” she finally answered, forcing herself to meet his eyes.

They were so grey in the dimmed light of the bedroom, a stormy shade of grey that made something clench in her lower belly.

“Women?” he insisted, almost breathless.

She shook her head.

He licked his lips with a guilty wince. “Effie…”

“It’s alright.” she promised. That was a lie but she decided that one didn’t count. That one was for her, not for him. “I simply wasn’t ready after… After _everything_. I am not sure… I am not sure I…”

“No pressure.” he offered immediately, squeezing her hand. It was a relief not to have to verbalize that particular concern, it was a relief that he could still read her that well. “I’m just glad you’re here.”

She watched him, studied the earnestness on his face, knew with all her heart he actually _meant_ that.

“How is this supposed to work?” she whispered, the old familiar fear gripping her again. “This is all… We cannot just jump back into this, Haymitch. We are different people now. It’s been three years… It’s…”

“I love you.” he cut her off firmly, searching her eyes for some sort of… She wasn’t sure. Confirmation, perhaps? “Do you believe me?”

She hadn’t believed him before. After the war, when he had left with Katniss, when he had tried to tell her… She hadn’t believed him.

And it was good to hear.

But she wasn’t sure the words were enough.

She wanted to say _yes_. She wanted to say yes _so_ _badly_.

“I don’t know.” she breathed out.

He swallowed hard but didn’t let go of her hand.

“Okay.” he said. “Do you still love me?”

“Yes.” That one she could answer without hesitation. She didn’t think she had ever stopped. Not even when she had been so angry she had actually hated him.

“Then, trust me when I say we’re gonna figure it out.” he insisted, lifting her hand to his mouth. He gave her plenty of time to snatch it away but when she didn’t protest he pressed a kiss on its back and she had to close her eyes because… “Told you, Princess, I’m all in. Took me long enough to get there, to be in a head space to get there… I want to give you… I want to give you everything, _I_ _swear_. Whatever you want.”

“Careful, Haymitch…” she teased, her voice breaking a little with emotions. “It almost sounds like a proposal.”

“I’ll marry you right now if that’s what you want.” he awkwardly offered. “If that’s what it takes to prove to you I’m serious about this, about _us_.”

Her breath caught in her throat. She knew her eyes were wide open and that it wasn’t the most flattering look. She knew she was gaping a little.

Her obvious surprise made him harden his features and he brought her hand to his mouth again, dropped another quick kiss there. “I want a whole life with you, sweetheart. What’s left of mine… It’s yours.” His lips stretched into a self-depreciative smirk. “Not worth much, I know, but…”

“ _Stop_.” she ordered, pressing her fingers on his mouth to physically prevent him from sprouting out that nonsense. “Stop being so mean to yourself.”

Her fingers trailed along the line of his jaw, rejoiced at the familiar prickle of his unkempt stubble. He leaned into the palm of her hand, his eyelids fluttering close with obvious relief at the familiar touch.

“You have come so far…” she marveled in a whisper. “Look at you… Sober, dealing with your feelings…”

“I’m still a slob and I’m still grumpy two days out of three. I’m not a piece of cake.” he warned. “Didn’t become one of your perfect groomed Capitol boyfriends.”

“I would not want you to be.” she argued, dropping her hand. He seemed to regret the loss of contact as much as she did. “I am so proud of you, darling. _So_ proud.”

The old term of endearment slipped past her lips.

“Don’t call me that.” he grumbled but given how hoarse he sounded and how much his face had softened, she doubted he actually minded.

She meant it though. He had come so far… He deserved to find his happiness. He deserved… He deserved _everything_ fate had denied him, everything the Capitol had stolen from him.

And it made her sad.

Because…

“You say you want to give me everything…” she whispered slowly. “And I would give you that and more in a heartbeat… But I am not sure I _can_.”

It would have been easier if they had both still been in a rocky mental space. It would have been fairer. It would have been…

“It’s alright if you’re still angry with me…” he pleaded. “Just… Just let me try to prove to you…”

“It isn’t _that_ , Haymitch.” She sat up straighter, brought her hands to her face, buried them in the mess of curls that was her hair… She licked her lips, not quite sure how to word any of what she wanted to say. She had watched them tonight, she had watched them all and… They formed a family in this lovely brand new District. They had built a new life. A _good_ life. And perhaps there were bad days but it was obvious the good ones outnumbered the bad. And… “It does not feel like three years have passed for me.”

She glanced at him but he didn’t say anything.

She dropped her hands on her lap, pulled on her fingers…

She hadn’t talked about this. To anyone.

She didn’t have friends anymore. Her family… Her family had flat out disowned her.

She had no one.

For the longest time, she had had no one. And, in a way, it had suited her.

“Sometimes, it’s like I am still there, like I _never_ left.” she confessed and it was, perhaps, the hardest thing she had ever said out loud. There was a lump in her throat and her eyes burned but she batted her eyelashes, refused to let the tears fall. “I close my eyes and…” She shut her eyes, took a deep breath, held it for a moment then let it out slowly. It was an old trick to manage stage fright, one she often used as a coping mechanism nowadays. “I have terrible nightmares every night. And that’s when I manage to fall asleep _at all_. The smallest most idiotic thing triggers flashback and panic attacks. People _hate_ me now. They curse me and they spit at me and I cannot blame them because I did do the things they say… I was an escort and I betrayed the Capitol and the only reason I am still breathing is because I was your lover. I can _barely_ function enough to keep a roof over my head and I am certain I would have been fired from my job long ago if Plutarch had not personally vouched for me. I have no money to speak of. And it was all I could do not to be sick earlier because it was the most food I had in…” She shook her head. “I do not know how long. Not because I cannot afford it either but because eating has become… It is a struggle.” She swallowed hard. “And that’s even without mentioning how different I look. The scars, the weight loss…”

“Effie…” he cut in quietly but she ignored him.

She kept on talking, a little louder, a little more hysterical. “I am _ugly_ and… and… I want to have sex with you, Haymitch, I _do_. When do I _not_? But I am not sure I can… I am not sure it would even work anymore. Sometimes my body does not feel like it’s mine. Sometimes _my mind_ does not feel like it’s mine.” She buried her face in her hands, brought her legs closer to her chest, hunched over as if she had been struck in the plexus… “So here you are talking about giving me _everything_ and all I can think about is how well you are when I am _in pieces_ inside. I am _in pieces_. I am…”

Her frantic rant came to a sudden stop when arms wrapped around her. His embrace was tight and warm and she didn’t resist when he tugged her closer to him. She wasn’t entirely sure how she ended up on his lap, like a child, but she buried her face in his neck and let him rock them both gently. She didn’t realize she was crying until he started petting her hair and dropping soothing kisses on her cheek, her shoulder, her neck… Whatever part of her he could reach.

“You deserve more than _me_ …” she murmured between two sobs.

“Don’t tell me I deserve more.” he chided her and, for the first time since she had gotten off the train she heard real anger in his voice. It had been a constant feature before the war but not anymore. He wasn’t angry anymore. Another thing he had managed to let go of, she supposed. “I’m lucky you’re even talking to me. I treated you like _shit_. I failed you when it counted. I was supposed to _protect_ you. The only reason you had to go through all of that is ‘cause _I_ failed you, not the other way around. I don’t deserve more. _Fuck_ , I don’t even deserve you.” He pressed a long kiss against her forehead. “But I’m _fucking_ selfish and I’ll take you if you want me.”

“I’m _broken_.” she insisted because he didn’t seem to understand.

“You’re not broken, sweetheart, you’ve got cracks.” he countered. “That’s something Doctor Aurelius says. You’re not broken you’ve got cracks. And it’s not about making them disappear or painting over them… It’s about _mending_ , yeah?”

She made an effort to get the sobs under control before she spoke again. “That sounds far too philosophical for you.”

He chuckled low in her ear and she closed her eyes at the long missed intimacy of it.

Still sniffing a little, she arranged the blankets around them so it was a comfortable nest. They both moved without discussing it or displaying any sort of hesitation. Haymitch slid down the bed until he was lying down, she curled up against his side, a leg hooked over his hip, their legs tangled, his arm wrapped around her waist, her upper body half on his chest, his hand buried in her hair, her fingers tracing the line of the swollen scar on his side… It didn’t matter that he was naked. It didn’t matter that they hadn’t been that close since before the Quell. It didn’t matter that his body was responding to having her pressed against his, he didn’t mention it and neither did she. It didn’t matter. Because the only thing that mattered was being in each other’s arms and never letting go.

“There’s something I’ve read about…” he mumbled against her hair. “I think some people still do it in some parts of Six… It’s called Kintsugi. When they broke a pottery… Instead of fixing it, they fill the cracks with powdered gold or silver. Or copper. Cheaper I guess.” He shrugged but not enough to disturb her head. “Point is… It ain’t because something’s broken that it ain’t pretty, sweetheart.”

She started drawing random patterns on his side. “I am a mess.”

“Ain’t we all…” he sighed.

She lifted her head, searching his eyes. “Do you still want me anyway?”

He snorted but there was no amusement in his eyes, only fondness. “Is that a real question?”

She leaned in slowly and his hand stilled in her hair, loosely tangled in her blond curls. She didn’t break eye contact until the very last moment and when their lips were finally about to brush, there was a bark and then a light weight making the mattress dip at the foot of the bed.

Effie turned her head to look at the puppy now sitting there with his tongue lolling out of his mouth and she couldn’t help but laugh.

Haymitch was a lot less amused. “You know… I’m reconsidering the puppy thing, sweetheart…”

She only laughed harder and dropped her head back on his shoulder, muffling her giggles against his skin.

“I’m serious…” he insisted, amused even though he was trying to sound cross. “Maybe we should change his name. Fluff doesn’t suit. How about Cockblock?”

“Absolutely not!” she huffed, right as the dog turned on himself and finally flopped down on their feet. He looked delighted. “I am not quite sure about allowing him to sleep on the bed though… We should get a special pillow for him.”

“He’s got a blanket.” he grumbled.

She sniffed in disdain. “He’s a _baby_. He needs something _comfortable_ , Haymitch.”

He snorted but resumed petting her hair. “Sure.”

He was so clearly humoring her that she should have been mad but she couldn’t get herself to care. Not when she was lying against his naked body, warm and safe, and it felt that little bit easier to _breathe_.

“Are we going to be alright?” she asked after a long moment.

“Yeah.” he said with enough confidence that she believed him. “One day at a time, sweetheart. But we’re gonna be just fine in the end. I promise.”

She could have wept again at the sheer relief of hearing that.

Haymitch never made promises he could not keep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was the "ansgty" chapter XD What did you think? Should we rename the dog? Will Katniss convince Haymitch to give Effie her gift? Are you still enjoying the story? Let me know your thoughts!


	5. Sacred New Beginnings (That Became My Religion)

Effie felt the weight of his gaze before she even properly opened her eyes.

“Are you watching me sleep?” she mumbled, burying her face in her pillow.

“Whatever’s the non creepy answer.” Haymitch replied. His voice wasn’t rough enough for him to have just woken up. She stretched a little and then opened her eyes, annoyed that he wasn’t entirely within reach anymore.

She was lying on his side of the bed, true, but he had moved right up against the edge of the mattress. She frowned until she realized he was deliberately angling his hips away from her. A teasing smile blossomed on her lips before she could over think it. “Are we having a little problem this morning, Haymitch?”

He rolled his eyes but smirked at her. “Your memory’s wrong if you think there’s anything _little_ about it.”

She chuckled and rolled on her back to leave him more room, feeling like her head was full of cotton. It had been so long since she had slept so well that it almost felt like a hangover.

She wasn’t enough of a romantic to think it was because she had spent the night in his arms – although it might have helped some. She had been exhausted the previous night, mentally and physically. She had been bound to crash.

“What is that noise?” she complained. There was a faint honking noise coming from outside. 

“The geese.” he sighed. “I need to let them out of their pen. Should let the dog out too.”

_The_ _dog_.

She couldn’t feel his small weight on the bed and she lifted her head to scan the rest of the bedroom… “Where is he?”

“Stole one of my slippers.” Haymitch grumbled. “I tried to get it back and he ran away. Probably hiding somewhere, which he _should_ ‘cause if I catch him…”

“You will do _nothing_ to my baby.” she cut him off firmly, pouting a little.

“Wait until it’s one of your _fucking_ stilettos.” he retorted. “Then you tell me if he doesn’t deserve to be shouted at.”

“We are not shouting at our dog.” she insisted, tossing him a mild glare.

It was like his whole body went soft and he moved a little closer to her, lying down on his side. She could feel the warmth coming from him but he wasn’t close enough that her skin was touching his front.

“I like that. _Ours_.” he uncertainly confessed.

She liked that too. She wasn’t sure how clever it was but she did like it.

“Are you staying away for your sake or mine?” she asked, searching his eyes.

“Both?” he snorted but when he realized she was serious he shrugged. “Yours, mostly.”

“Good.” She rolled on her side, hooked her leg over his and buried against his chest. She could have purred at the sheer pleasure of being pressed against his warm skin. She wasn’t awake enough yet to worry about consequences and the problems that were bound to arise. She just wanted this, the simplicity and the familiarity of it. She was very tempted to kiss his collarbone, to _taste_ , because he smelled like Haymitch but did he still _taste_ like him? It would have been mean given his predicament however and she refrained. “I have missed this.”

“Torturing me with your minx acts?” he groaned but he wrapped his arms around her and he didn’t let go. His nose bumped against her shoulder and then he buried his face in the crook of her neck… She felt _his_ lips brush her skin in a kiss that wasn’t entirely innocent… He didn’t do anything more. He didn’t try to tease a response out of her, his hands didn’t wander… But it was obvious he wanted her.

She thought it would be scarier than it actually was.

The idea of sex had petrified her since the war. She had entertained the thought a few times, had imagined going to a club and picking someone up, but the thought of putting herself at someone’s complete mercy, the idea of _surrendering_ herself… She had found it terrifying.

And yet, right then, it was simply… She wanted it, she realized: his hands on her body, the sweet torture of the build-up, his breath in her ear… She wanted it. Perhaps not right then but soon.

“Being with you…” she whispered. “How mushy would you think me to be if I told you I want to wake up like this for the rest of my life?”

She had expected a joke or a fond mocking comment.

She got his hand cupping her cheek and tilting her head up. Before she could even process that, his mouth was on her, hard and demanding.

She barely had time to respond because he suddenly drew back, a wild spark in his eyes.

He licked his lips. “Sorry. _Shit_ , _sorry_. I…”

She locked her hand around his nape and pulled him back in. He resisted for about two seconds before he gave in completely. She opened her mouth, let him deepen the kiss, let him roll her on her back, let him crush her to the mattress with his body… His hands drifted down her sides to her thighs… She parted her legs before he could even hint that it was what he wanted, happy to have him there, between her thighs, his hard length pressing against her lower belly…

It was almost enough to make her lose her mind. She was hyper aware of _everything_ : the caress of his palms on her legs, the sensation of his bare chest pressed against her breasts, the way his tongue _fucked_ her mouth…

She tightened the grip her legs had on his hips, let him bundle her nightgown around her waist… A part of her wanted it off, a part of her enjoyed the feeling of her hard nipples rubbing against the silky fabric… His lips left hers, wandered down her jaw, down her neck, down her shoulder… Stopped on the scar that was curling there…

And she _froze_.

The moment his mouth made contact with that scar, she froze.

He felt the change in her and immediately backed off, propping himself on his elbows, lifting himself up a little so he wasn’t crushing her down any longer… She made no move to actually push him away but her hands had somehow flown to his hips, lifting them a little so she didn’t feel _him_ that much… He studied her, his gaze dark with lust, and slowly leaned in to peck her lips.

He did it three times. Soft and gentle.

At the third one she finally let out the breath she was holding.

“I am…” she whispered.

“Don’t say you’re sorry.” he warned with a last peck. “It’s okay. Told you. No pressure.”

She almost begged him to understand. “I _want_ you.”

“I know. You’re just not ready.” He smiled but it was more of a wince. “It’s alright, sweetheart.” There were a few barks from somewhere in the house and he snorted. “Cockblock wants his breakfast anyway.”

“ _Fluff_.” she corrected with a warning look. “Do not start confusing him.”

“Still say Cockblock suits him better.” he argued, dropping a last hesitant peck on her lips before rolling off her and out of bed.

The playful retort she was about to impart died on her lips when she saw him standing there in all his naked glory. The morning light spilled from the half-closed curtains and hit him just _right_ and… Men didn’t have any business being _that_ beautiful, she mused. It was none of the chiseled beauty of Capitol men, of course, but it was better. It was District beautiful. Rough and true. Her eyes lingered on his erection standing proudly in front of him and she felt the answering yearning. 

“Still liking the view, then?” Haymitch teased. There was a hint of uncertainty in there, as if he hadn’t been sure before that she _would_.

“It has always been one of my favorites.” she acknowledged, refusing to be embarrassed. It took her courage to kick the sheets and comforter off and to lie there in the nightgown that didn’t really cover anything. “Do you?”

Her body was more damaged than his and she braced herself for his answer. His grey eyes roamed over her hungrily and he turned away with a groan. “Sweetheart, that’s mean… Men have _died_ of blue balls, you know?”

She couldn’t help but chuckle. “I am pretty sure they did _not_.” She adjusted the nightgown and slipped out of bed, stealing an abandoned sweater from the armrest of the armchair to shield herself against the cold. “It is a serious question, though. I am not…”

“You’re gorgeous and I _fucking_ want you.” he said without turning back. “And when you’re ready, I’m gonna prove that to you _at length_.”

She placed her hand on the small of his back and pressed a kiss against his shoulder blade, on one of the faded scars from his youth. “I am looking forward to that.”

He turned his head and she raised on tip toes to catch his mouth. She had intended for it to be a mere peck but somehow she ended up wrapped in his arms again, her fingers tangled in his hair, the kiss aggressive in all the right ways…

Haymitch chuckled into her mouth and made an obvious effort to slow things down. He nuzzled her cheek, her neck. “Guess we’re still very bad at keeping our hands off each other…”

“I should not be as pleased by that as I am.” she remarked, untangling her fingers from his hair to frame his face and tug him into one last long kiss. “I need a shower.”

With a sigh, he dropped his arms from around her. “Dress warm, yeah? It’s gonna get cold today.”

With that warning in mind, she retreated down the admittedly chilly corridor to the guest room, burrowing in his borrowed sweater. Her shoulder was aching a little, like always when humidity reached a certain level. Reparative surgery was all well and good but it had its limits and it had been left out of its socket for too long for miracles to be expected. The warm shower helped though and she lingered as long as she dared, not quite sure how much hot water she could use before it ran out.

The contents of her suitcase left her a little depressed. There was nothing glamorous or pretty enough and it hadn’t really been on her mind before leaving but now she actually _wanted_ to look glamorous and pretty because she wanted Haymitch to… She wanted Haymitch to keep wanting her, she wanted to make the effort… She couldn’t wear the red dress again, not two days in a row… She opted for skin tight black pants and a powder blue sweater. It was her second best outfit after the dress and it was probably the warmest in the lot too.

She tamed her hair as much as she could but it still curled wildly around her face like an unruly mane… Haymitch loved it like that though so she made her peace with it.

The make-up she kept light out of necessity.

When she finally made her way to the kitchen, breakfast was on the table and Haymitch was showered and dressed in grey pants that were a little loose on him and a red and white woolen sweater. The pants she recognized as a part of a suit set from six years earlier but the sweater was obviously newish. His hair was still wet though and she pursed her lips as she took a seat at the table. “You will catch a cold.”

Amusement danced in his eyes when he put a mug of coffee down in front of her. Black and bitter, exactly like she loved it best. He also put down a plate with three toasted slices of bread, a soft-boiled egg, a blueberry muffin and one of Peeta’s strawberry and chocolate cupcakes.

“That’s too much.” she immediately protested.

“Try.” he simply requested, pushing the orange juice in her direction.

She hadn’t had such a lavish breakfast since the Quell.

She made an effort to eat a little of everything – and the homemade apricot jam was so delicious it wasn’t such a hardship.

“Haymitch…” she hesitated after a few minutes spent eating in silence. It was comfortable and she was loathe to disturb the peace after the nice morning they had had but… She could feel her anxiety rising its ugly head. “How do you want to do this?”

He paused with his mug of tea half-way to his mouth and frowned, putting it back down. “Do what?”

She licked her lips, delayed answering by buttering her toast. “This. _Us_.” She took a deep breath and went on without leaving him room to answer just yet. “Do you mean for us to live together or… Do you want to ease into this? Should we date first? It would probably be sensible, I suppose. Who rushes headlong into living together? But then… We should discuss this because if I need to find a place to stay… Well, I need to start looking. And I would obviously need a job too.” She chanced a glance up and found Haymitch horror struck. She bit down on her bottom lip. “Haymitch?”

“You… Whatever you want to do.” he said slowly, clearly reluctantly.

“I am asking you what _you_ want to do.” she replied, slightly irritated. “It is not a trick question.”

He rubbed his face. “I thought… I thought if you forgave me, if you wanted me back…” He winced and shrugged. “Sweetheart, we’re too old for all the dating _shit_ and I’ve always been bad at that stuff anyway… I mean… I can try if you want me to, if that’s what it’s gonna take but…” He shook his head. “Look, don’t go searching for a place to stay. If you want us to live together we can. If you want to be alone… There’s always the guest room and… Just… Wait until I get you your gift, alright?”

He was agitated and, at the way his hands couldn’t keep still, she knew he was yearning for a drink. The way he reached for an empty glass and poured himself some orange juice was telling enough. There was a flash of relief once he had the glass in hand, as if the simple act of _holding a glass_ helped him relax.

“You intended for us to live together.” she deduced from all that. He didn’t say anything. He kept sipping his orange juice, not looking at her in the eyes. She thought back to all the boxes, the empty ones and the holes on the shelves… “Is that why you are packing some of your stuff up? You were making room for me?”

When he answered, it was almost a croak. “In a way.”

It wasn’t quite the straight-out answer she had been hoping for but that was Haymitch for you, she supposed.

“It is very nice of you, Haymitch, very thoughtful…” she hesitated. “But you do not need to go to that trouble.”

“Cause you don’t want to live with me?” he asked, sounding sad but resigned.

“No.” she countered quickly. “Because I do not own that much. I took everything I wanted to keep with me. I only have a few photo albums really, they are not even that large… Everything else is gone. A shelf will be enough… Do not go and pack all your books for me.”

He watched her for a long time and eventually nodded, relaxing a little. “So you want to stay then, yeah? You want to…”

She grinned and cut a piece off her cupcake. “You got me a dog. I _have_ to stay, now, don’t I?”

He snorted. “Guess so. Speaking of…”

There was a lot of barking outside and then the back door opened and Katniss walked in, Fluff jumping and barking around her legs. The girl was carrying a heavy looking messenger bag as well as her bow and didn’t look entirely happy with the puppy’s enthusiastic welcome.

“Why is there a slipper half buried in the snow out front?” Katniss asked.

Haymitch shot a glare at Fluff who didn’t look perturbed in the least. It bounced up to Effie and proceeded to greet her with a lot of happy whining and licking.

She couldn’t help but laugh.

The girl shot her a weird look but dropped her bow and bag on the kitchen counter before flopping down on one of the chairs and helping herself to breakfast.

“You don’t have food in your house?” Haymitch grumbled, mostly for show, Effie could tell.

“Yeah, but it ain’t cooked and you don’t want me to starve when I was up at dawn hunting tonight’s dinner, do you?” the girl deadpanned, nodding at her bag. “That’s all you’re eating?”

That question was directed at Effie who looked down at her half-eaten plate and had to admit it wasn’t much. One toast and a half was gone, a small piece of the cupcake, a quarter of the muffin and she had barely touched the egg.

“I do not have much of an appetite anymore, I am afraid.” she dismissed, inflecting some cheer in her voice. “Would you like the egg? It is still warm.”

Katniss took the egg but watched her critically. “It’s fine. Haymitch’s a good cook. He’s gonna feed you up whether you like it or not. And if Sae likes you, she won’t rest until you’re stuffed like a goose.”

She wasn’t certain if that was a promise or a threat so she looked at Haymitch quizzically.

“Katniss refused to eat for a while after we came back.” he informed her.

“I didn’t _refuse_ to eat, I just wasn’t hungry.” the girl grumbled with a knowing look for Effie.

She chose not to answer. She didn’t want to burden the children with her problems.

Haymitch cleared his throat and redirected the conversation. “So? How’s the weather? You think it’s gonna snow again?”

“Not for another couple of days.” Katniss shook her head and then flashed him a devilish smile. “So you’ve got _no_ excuse not to take her.”

“Darling, do not talk about people in third person when they are standing right there, it is rude and insulting.” Effie rebuked, clucking her tongue. Both Haymitch and Katniss paused and she wondered how out of it she must have appeared the previous night that they looked both surprised and relieved to hear her correct someone on their manners. “Now where is Haymitch supposed to take me?”

“To get your _gift_.” Katniss answered before Haymitch could cut in. The girl put a weird inflection on that word, as if it wasn’t quite the one she wanted to use.

Effie would have been lying if she didn’t admit to some curiosity.

Haymitch made a face though and didn’t look either of them in the eyes. “I was thinking… Maybe it’s best to wait for Christmas…”

“Christmas?” Effie repeated, disappointed.

He winced even more. “Maybe we should just… Give you a chance to settle down first…”

“Settle down?” Katniss scoffed “What for?”

It hurt.

She wouldn’t denying and she didn’t really bother to hide it. She cleared her throat, clutching her empty mug of coffee between her hands as a buffer. “I have decided to stay in Twelve, Katniss. _Indefinitely_.”

The girl looked at her as if she didn’t understand why she was using such gravitas.

“Well, yeah… I sure hope so.” Katniss shrugged and then turned to watch Haymitch with narrowed eyes. “See? She’s staying _either_ _way_ so stop being so chicken and go give her that _gift_ already!” 

“It’s more complicated than that.” Haymitch snapped. “Mind your business, sweetheart.”

“You made it my business when you spent the last three years moaning about it.” the girl deadpanned. “ _Seriously_. That’s all you and Peeta have been talking about…”

“Right.” Haymitch scowled. “We haven’t also talked about that bakery of his, yeah? You haven’t…”

“Please, do not fight.” Effie cut in quietly, very confused by what was happening. “Not on my account or because of that mysterious gift…” Haymitch shot her a guilty look but both of them kept sulking. “I am sure I will love it, whatever it is.” Three years… What could have taken three years? “I do not really want to wait until Christmas though but if that’s what you want, that’s what we will do… I have gifts for all of you too.”

Katniss stared at Haymitch and he ignored the girl but made a face of defeat. “Nah… No point waiting, I guess.” He sighed. “I’ll show you today.”

_Show her_ not _give her_ so whatever it was, it couldn’t simply be handed over… But then again he _had_ said it was too big to be sent over by mail…

“Don’t look so glum.” Katniss chided. “You weren’t even sure Effie would show up, remember? Well, she’s here and she’s staying. She’s going to like it.”

Effie renounced reminding her about manners again. “I am certain I _will_.”

“Right.” Katniss commented. “And if she hates it, she’s too polite to say so… You’re covered.”

Haymitch glanced from the girl to her and back. She wasn’t used to seeing him this nervous. The last time she had seen him with nerves so frayed, it had been during the Quell. It wasn’t a time she liked remembering.

“There might be a case of _too much too soon_ , though…” he hesitated. 

“You proposed last night.” she reminded him. “How much crazier can it be?”

Katniss had stolen what was left of her cupcake and almost choked on it. The girl coughed so hard Effie patted her back, worried she would suffocate. “You _what_?”

“It was not a _serious_ proposal.” She tried to salvage the situation but Haymitch had gone red in the face and was obviously embarrassed now. “He did not mean it.”

“I kind of did.” he muttered, pushing the chair back so he could stand up. “But we can talk about that later. I’m gonna go dry my hair then we go, yeah? Can’t go out like that without getting pneumonia.”

She recognized a flight when she saw one but she didn’t call him out on it or try to stop him.

Katniss watched him go with wide eyes and then turned to Effie. She studied her in silence for a moment before stealing what was left of Haymitch’s glass of orange juice. “So you’re engaged or…”

The girl’s sentence trailed off and Effie wasn’t entirely certain how to answer her unvoiced question.

“I am… unsure.” she finally conceded. “I honestly did not think he was serious.”

Katniss nodded as if it made a lot of sense – perhaps it made more for her than it did for Effie – and then took a sip of orange juice, considering…

“It’s crazier.” the girl warned.

Effie frowned. “I’m sorry?”

“It’s crazier than proposing to you after three years of radio silence.” Katniss clarified. “If it were me and a guy gave me _that_ , I’d freak out. _Hell_ , I’ve been with Peeta for three years and if he dropped that on me out of the blue, I’d run for the woods and not look back for a long time.”

“That’s…” Effie licked her lips, trying to convince her racing heart that _nothing_ was amiss. “… _not_ very helpful, darling.”

Katniss shrugged. “Look, just… It means a lot to him, to all of us really ‘cause we all worked on it so…”

“What _is_ it exactly?” she asked, lowering her voice just in case Haymitch came back sooner than expected. “Can’t you give me a hint?”

The girl hesitated and then shook his head. “He’s gonna kill me if I ruin it.” She reached for Effie’s hand and gave it a brief squeeze. “Please, even if it freaks you out… Don’t break his heart. And don’t disappear again.”

That last part was added with a hint of reproach that both irritated and moved her.

“I do not plan on leaving.” she insisted. “Whatever that gift is, it won’t scare me away.”

Katniss searched her eyes. She must have found what she wanted there because she gave her a sharp nod. “Good. I kind of missed you.”

“Kind of?” Effie repeated, her lips twitching with the effort to bite back a grin.

“You’re good at keeping him in line.” the girl replied. “He’s annoying when he’s sulking and he’s been sulking since you dumped him.”

She couldn’t help but smile at the first part but it faded away with the last one. “I did not dump him… It was more complicated than that, Katniss.”

“I know.” the girl grumbled. “He explained most of it when he was drunk. He really _does_ love you, you know?”

“If the two of you are done gossiping…” Haymitch scowled, striding back into the kitchen. “Let’s go and get it _fucking_ over with.”

Effie huffed. “Well, when you put it like that… How could I resist such an _enticing_ proposition.”

“Don’t mind him.” Katniss taunted. “He’s just nervous ‘cause he’s the craziest man in Panem.”

Haymitch glared at her, glared at Effie, glared at everything and everyone they met once they had put on their coats, gotten the dog and left the house behind.

Effie didn’t really dare start a conversation, his attitude was annoying her, and, thus, she focused on the puppy, worrying every time he ran ahead and disappeared from sight.

“Shouldn’t we get a leash?” she asked eventually, biting down on her bottom lip.

Haymitch startled out of his bad mood and shot her a slightly guilty look. “He’s fine, Princess. There are three cars in the whole District. It’s mostly still horse carts around here. They’re used to dogs and kids running around. It’s safe enough.”

They were just past the Village Gates and her concerns had been less with cars than with him getting lost.

“Are you done sulking, then?” she asked casually enough.

He pouted a little but offered her his arm. She took it gratefully, the path was slippery.

“I’m sorry.” He sighed. “It’s just… I’m not sure it’s all such a good idea anymore… I didn’t think you’d… I don’t want to overwhelm you.”

She had probably freaked _him_ out the previous night with her hysterical confession.

She let out an irritated huff. “I am not made of glass. And I _forbid_ you to _pity_ me, Haymitch.”

He watched her for a second and then snorted, tilting his head a little with fondness. “Here you go saying you’re broken… And you’re still the strongest of us all.”

She pursed her lips. “Do not be silly. Now, let’s go see this mysterious gift and then on the way back maybe we can stop somewhere in town to find some Christmas decorations to put around the house? Oh… And… Could we get a tree? We _should_ get a tree…”

His smirk was fond and he suddenly looked a little less nervous. “Sure…”

She followed him blindly, mostly because she still didn’t really have her bearings in the new town and because she was busy watching the dog. Haymitch ordered him to keep at his heels as soon as they reached the first brick houses but he was unruly. In the end they agreed they _should_ get a leash, at least for now.

Eventually, she finally realized where he was taking her though. Mostly because they walked past a narrow street and into the not quite wild area surrounding the town. In daylight, it was easier to see the well-used path that twisted out of town.

Fluff seemed to recognize it too because he led the way, barking joyfully in the wind, rushing straight to the dog’s trainer’s Christmas decked house.

She didn’t understand why they were going back there.

Surely the gift wasn’t another dog, was it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why are we back there, we all wonder XD Is hayffie engaged or not? The debate is on-going haha! Let me know your thoughts!


	6. I Like Shiny Things (But I'd Marry You With Paper Rings)

The house was even more stunning in daylight than it had been at night.

It didn’t have the advantage of Christmas lights shining in the dark and, as always, she thought the twinkling lights looked sad wrapped there, waiting for the dark so they could shine; but she could also see the house better than she had the previous night and it _was_ a wonderful thing.

It was designed in a completely different style than the rest of the District too.

The bricks and the wrap-around porch had been painted white, the front door was crimson and the shutters were all a vivid shade of blue that, alone, would have made the building stand out even without the soft dark green tiles that composed the roof.

“I do not understand…” she admitted, as they walked the cleared path that led up to the house. “Are your friends back? Do they have my gift?”

Haymitch stopped in the middle of the path, Fluff darted toward the back of the house… Effie supposed he either wanted to see the other dogs or visit his old haunts. She was more concerned with the way Haymitch had buried his hands deep in his pockets and how he rocked lightly from the balls of his feet to his toes like a child caught stealing in the cookie jar.

“Do you like it? The house?”

It was the second time he had asked this question.

She stared at him for a long time and then looked back at the strange house that didn’t belong in Twelve.

There were a lot of boxes in Haymitch’s living-room…

“Are your friends selling?” she hesitated. She looked at the house more in details, tried to spot flaws because that was what her father had taught her when prospecting properties…

Was it what had taken him three years? Locating the perfect house?

“It’s not…” he countered and then sighed. He ran a hand through his hair, making a face. “It’s not my friends’.”

Effie frowned. “It does not belong to the dogs’ trainer?”

Haymitch shook his head, obviously so nervous… “I own it.”

A rush of _something_ washed over her and she wasn’t sure it was a good or a bad feeling.

She was right, then. _This_ was it. The thing that was crazier than proposing to her after three years of nothing. He had spent the last three years searching for…

“You bought us a house?” she asked. She had wanted her voice to sound firmer than it did. As it was, she couldn’t help it coming out a little faint.

It was a beautiful house. And she loved the colors. And it explained why he had reacted the way he had when she had talked about living arrangements that morning but…

“I didn’t…” He let out an irritated breath, kicked a frozen pebble… “I didn’t _buy_ it.”

“I don’t understand.” she repeated, shaking her head.

He looked up at the house and then back at her, uncertain. “When I decided to get sober three years ago… I wanted to prove to you… I wanted to _show_ you I was committed…”

He seemed to be waiting for some sort of acknowledgment on her part so she nodded. “Alright.”

“The government was looking for buyers for this area. The lands were cheap ‘cause the old mine ain’t that far and they can’t really build anything on it, the ground keeps shifting, it’s like cheese down there.” he explained and then made a face. “This portion is safe though. I had it checked and rechecked.”

She hadn’t actually been worried about that before he mentioned it but now she looked down at the ground that seemed very solid with some mistrust.

“I saw the notice on the board on the Square and I bought it on impulse.” He shrugged. “Peeta was drawing plans for the new bakery around that time… Rebuilding was all everyone was talking about so it got me thinking that if I got us a house, you’d know I wasn’t just…”

“You…” she started but he lifted a hand and she fell silent. Obviously, he was feeling a little embarrassed and wanted to explain all in one go.

“I knew what I wanted, what you’d like…” He buried his hands in the pockets of his coat again, turned to look in the distance… “When I was in Thirteen… That place was… I know I can’t complain, you had it much worse… But that place was awful, sweetheart, and I could see it all going to hell in a handbasket. Katniss was barely talking to me, I was worried sick about the kids, about you… The only thing that got me through was thinking that once the war was over we’d all move away together, start fresh…”

“That’s a lovely thought.” she whispered. “I wish…”

“Yeah.” He smiled but it was sad. “I wish too. I had this idea we’d go to Four. Big enough of a District that you’d enjoy it, big enough that we’d be anonymous… We could have gotten a house on the beach… One that didn’t feel like a tomb…”

She looked back at the house, appreciating the white paint and the blue shutters with a new eye. It looked so bright, so cheerful… It looked _inviting_. A lot more so than his old house did, she had to admit. “So you got us the next best thing…”

“Peeta helped a lot.” he said quickly. “Couldn’t have done it without him. You know I can’t draw for _shit_. He did all the blueprints from what I told him.”

“You _designed_ it?” Her breath caught in her throat and she took an instinctive step toward the house.

“Yeah. The broad lines. The boy fixed the rest. We had some of the construction crew in town look at it too, just to be sure it was safe.” He winced. “I know what you like… At least, I _think_ I know.” He should. She ranted enough times about how she would have decorated the penthouse if it had been left to her and, of course, he had been to all of the three apartments she had owned during the course of their acquaintance. “I put some of what _I_ like in there too…”

He was watching her, studying her face, waiting for her reaction…

She was stunned, truth be told, but, suddenly, through the shock… She started to smile, _really_ smile, as the excitement took hold.

She couldn’t help it. She laughed. “You had a house built for me!”

“I didn’t _have_ _it_ _built_ …” he countered carefully, not quite sure how to interpret her laughter. “I _built_ it. Well, Peeta and I built it. And the girl, on occasion.”

Her laughter died in her throat and she turned to him, eyes impossible wide. “You… _What_?”

“That’s why it took three years.” He made a face. “At first I was gonna tell you once we had the foundations done but… It didn’t look very good and…” He stopped, scowled. “I wanted you to be _impressed_. It wasn’t impressive. It wasn’t proof of anything. Then the winter was harsh… We had to stop… We weren’t getting anywhere… There were always setbacks… I got… I started drinking again.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “When we finished the ground floor, Peeta said I should call. And I almost did but… What was I gonna tell you? I built us a half-finished house? So I didn’t say anything and it felt like a pipe dream, like we’d never finish it and you’d never come back, and I hit the bottle again… And then…”

She crossed the distance between them in three wide steps and placed her hand on his chest.

He stopped talking immediately.

“You built me a house.” she said with awe.

His grey gaze darted to her lips and back to her eyes, a little uncertain. “Yeah?”

“With your own hands.” she insisted.

“And Peeta’s.” he nuanced. “And a few other people’s ‘cause I’m really _shit_ at plumbing and I know you like your water pressure.” He didn’t leave her time to react to his joke, he cupped her cheek, retraced her cheekbone with his thumb. “I know it’s completely crazy… Yesterday… I’ve been wanting to show you so bad but yesterday… Once you were here and it was _actually_ time… It all seemed completely _mad_ …”

“You built me a house.” she repeated because it _did_ seem mad.

He shrugged, his lips stretching into a self-deprecating smile. “Go big or go home?”

She laughed again, feeling both exhilarated and a touch hysterical.

He had built her, _them_ , a house.

“You’re laughing ‘cause you’re happy, yeah?” he asked with tentative amusement, brushing her hair away from her face. “Not ‘cause you’re planning on running away and having me committed?”

She locked her arms around his neck, more or less jumping into his embrace, still laughing. He stumbled back at the unexpected attack but caught her before they could fall in the small coat of snow.

“I _am_ happy.” she promised, planting a kiss on his lips. “You built us _a house_. And I love it! It’s perfect!”

He snorted. “You didn’t even properly see it yet. For all you know, it’s awful inside.”

“I do not care. It’s perfect.” she insisted, kissing him again. “It is absolutely crazy and so perfectly _you_ … You cannot bring yourself to buy me flowers or take me out to dinner but you would go and build me a _bloody_ house!”

“Careful, you’re turning vulgar.” he mocked, nuzzling her nose with his. “That means you’re either very happy or very horny.”

“Both.” She grinned. “I am _both_. You built me _a house_ , Haymitch.”

He chuckled. “Yeah… Trust me, I noticed.”

He stole a short kiss that she turned into something far less short and far less suited for a public place. 

“I love it.” she insisted. “I love _you_.”

He rested his forehead against hers, closed his eyes… “Good. ‘Cause I… love you.”

The hesitation was barely perceptible.

Effie resolved to send Doctor Aurelius flowers. A huge bunch. The most expensive ones she could afford.

“Do I get to see inside _our house_ now?” she asked, letting go of his neck.

He put her back on her own two feet and fished a keychain from his pocket. It was gold and shaped like a star.

“Yours.” he offered unnecessarily.

She almost _sauntered_ up to the front door. Fluff came running back just as she was about to climb the porch’s steps and she lifted him up, pressing a short kiss on his little head. “Look at that, my pretty boy, our very own house… We need to get you a doghouse…”

“He’s got one in the backyard. It’s the last thing we added when you said you wanted a puppy.” Haymitch muttered, coming up behind her and placing a hand on her hip. “Don’t worry, the dog’s taken care of.”

She flashed him a grin over her shoulder and put the dog down on the porch so she could unlock the door. There was a traditional red and green Christmas wreath hanging around an elegant bronze knocker. She loved everything about that.

She paused with her hand on the handle because it was almost _too_ _much_. The excitement, the enormity of the gift… Haymitch’s presence behind her was massive – not oppressing but still bigger than life and it made her feel… She knew he was nervous and scared she would hate it and he had done something so ridiculously _huge_ to prove to her that…

“Were you truly serious about getting married?” she asked, her fingers clenching the cold metal of the handle.

“If that’s what you want.” he mumbled.

“That is not what I asked.” she chided, studying him over her shoulder. “What do _you_ want?”

To his credit, he didn’t really panic, he just swallowed hard and offered a small slightly forced smile. “I’ve built you a house, sweetheart… It’s pretty clear what I want. You, here with me. Us. You want me to marry you, I’ll take you straight to the Justice Building.”

“What?” she teased. “No Toasting?”

“Toastings ain’t official.” he explained. “You’ve still got to sign papers. Which reminds me…” He rubbed his forehead. “You’re gonna have to sign some stuff. I want the house in your name, it’s yours. I got it all worked through already, you just need to sign a couple of papers.”

She let go of the handle to turn around so she could face him. “You did all the work, you spent all that money… It does not seem right for it to…”

“It’s a gift.” he cut her off harshly. Then he tilted his head a little and watched her with a pleased smirk. “You can’t say no. It’s _rude_.”

She snorted but distractedly smoothed the lapels of his old coat.

_Oh dear…_ She had bought him _a coat_ for Christmas and there he had gone and given her _a house_. That would never do. She would need to find something else, something _more_ …

“Well… If we ever get married, your name will be mine, won’t it be? So there is no need to go to all that signing over troubles…” she insisted. “You built it to be ours. Let it be _ours_.”

He took a step closer and she took a step back playfully, leaning against the front door and probably crushing the Christmas wreath a little. His hands coiled around her hips.

“We’re getting married, then?” he asked, sounding a little hopeful.

“It does sound crazy.” she admitted. “But I must say Katniss has a point, it is _less_ crazy than you building me a secret house.” She kept playing with the lapel of his coat, distracted. “Perhaps not today or tomorrow? But… Eventually?”

“Eventually works for me.” He leaned in and pecked her lips a little impatiently. “Now, _for_ _fuck’s_ _sake_ , get inside that house and tell me if you hate it…”

She laughed but turned around again when he stepped back and finally opened the door. She stepped inside not really knowing what to expect. Fluff darted past her feet and lost no time sniffing around.

Effie took a step inside and _gaped_.

The space was huge and entirely open save for two white pillars dividing the front of the house into two zones. At first glance it almost looked more like a loft than a house but Effie knew exactly why he had done something like that because it reminded her of the apartment she had owned before the government had stolen it from her, her last one, her _favorite_ one.

On the left was a huge kitchen area in various shades of yellow, orange and the softest red. There was a central isle, a lot of gleaming apparatus she was certain she wouldn’t know how to use – but Haymitch might and that was the point, she supposed. On the right in more earthen shades of brown, cream and the lightest touches of forest green was a dining-room.

It wasn’t exactly the room arrangement she would have chosen because it made more sense for a house to open on a den than a dining-room but the whole space was so open, so perfectly designed… It worked. And she loved it.

She headed to the dining-room first, let her hand trail on the huge round gleaming table…

“It’s mahogany.” Haymitch told her, leaning against one of the central pillars. Right next to the huge Christmas tree that was waiting to be decorated. Overflowing boxes of ornaments were lying at its feet.

Her throat closed and it was hard to swallow the lump. Her eyes darted everywhere, there was so much to see… The tall mahogany dresser, the few potted plants, the rugs…

“We’re missing furniture…” he explained, waving at some empty spots. It was true that the dining-room looked a little sparse for now, not quite full, although he had arranged everything in a way that it wasn’t glaring. “I thought you’d like to keep some of yours…”

“I do not have any anymore.” she whispered flatly. Not that she cared. Not at all. She had left the Capitol with _nothing_ and he had given her… “We can see what we can salvage from your house. There are some beautiful pieces…”

“Yeah, sure.” He nodded. “Do you like it?”

“Do I like it?” she repeated, her voice breaking. It was then that she spotted the mural. It was all so overwhelming… She should have seen it before. On the partition wall with the next room, on the side opposite the window so the light hit it straight, the whole wall was taken by a huge painting in trompe-l’oeil style that could only be Peeta’s work.

It was the woods. Twelve’s woods or another, she wasn’t sure, she wasn’t an expert. But there was a narrow dirt lane in between trees and it was peaceful and so beautiful to look at…

“I couldn’t get the holographic windows. I know you like them, didn’t mind them either to be honest… But it’d have taken too much power.” Haymitch said. “So we got the next best thing.”

“It is perfect…” she whispered. “So much better…”

She brushed her fingertips against the painting. It took her a long time to convince herself it wouldn’t disappear if she walked to the kitchen. She barely noted the console tables and the framed pictures on the walls… There was so much to see…

The kitchen was clearly well thought out. It was practical and everything looked top notch which made her smile a little. “Exactly _how much_ do you cook?”

Katniss had mentioned it and now she was curious. She hadn’t known Haymitch could cook for himself, let alone well enough that the children would praise him for it.

“Cook more since I’m sober.” he confessed. “It relaxes me. I like it. I’m _shit_ at baking though. That’s the boy’s area anyway.”

There was another mural in the kitchen. This one was on the ceiling and it represented a sunny summer sky, completed with a sun and the faintest clouds.

She opened one of the cupboards to find it empty.

“Didn’t move in the tableware yet.” he told her. “Thought you’d want to order some pretty one, maybe…”

She would need to check his house. She knew he had a dining-room he had never used and chances were there _was_ a good china set there. It would be a shame to have such a pretty place and not to have the plates and dishes to go with it… She would hate to use his money though. The house had probably already cost a small fortune, it should be her turn to contribute… She needed a job. She _did_.

But that was considerations for later.

There was an archway in line with the pillars. Not a door but a round archway that suited the house’s style a lot more because it didn’t break its line. It was exactly what she would have chosen for herself and so she curiously stepped through to find herself in a corridor with a large window at the end spilling light. Or maybe _corridor_ wasn’t quite the right word because it was more square than long.

There were stairs that curled up toward the first floor but she ignored them for now, pushing the only door in sight instead. It was on the left and she found a small restroom inside. It was all made in various shades of blue. The floor, the ceiling, the walls… It should have been too much but it worked, mostly because of the mural on the wall that depicted waves crashing on a shore, there was foam everywhere and it was relaxing. She gave a customary glance to the gleaming toilets and the simple sink. Both were turquoise blue.

She closed the door again and walked past the stairs, aware that Haymitch was right on her heels, studying every little twitch of her features.

Behind the staircase were two archways, one on the left and one on the right. She took the left one and found herself in what looked like a study-slash-small-library of sort. The walls were lined with shelves except for the mural. This one represented more woods but it was different than the one in the living-room, a different place, with golden leaves on the trees and the barest hint of a lake glinting in the distance between two trunks…

There were two comfortable looking leather armchairs arranged around a small table, a writing desk in a corner… The overall tone of the study was more subdued, the colors in creams and taupe…

Haymitch cleared his throat. “I’ve got to say that one’s more for me… But we can add stuff. Like… I know you used to have one of those wooden dummy things…”

“A mannequin.” she corrected, walking to the windows.

The French windows were the most impressive things in the room, really. They took up a _whole_ _wall,_ giving the impression that the house was open on the outside… The backyard was huge and covered all the way to the tree line. Behind that the woods stretched. It was almost like being out while being safe inside. It was _stunning_.

“Yeah. We could fit one here.” he offered.

“I could sew in here.” She nodded. “The light is…”

“Yeah.” he confirmed with enthusiasm. “And I got you sketching pads so you can do your fashion stuff…”

He waved at the desk where a few pads were indeed piled. She didn’t have the heart to tell him she hadn’t sketched any sort of clothes since the war. Perhaps she could take it up again. In this house, everything felt possible. It was magical in a way…

Once she was standing in front of the window, she realized one of the panes could slide and she did just that. The window gave out on a wooden deck that was obviously connected to the wrap-around porch. There was a small table, a grill, a few garden armchairs… She walked to the steps that gave on the backyard but didn’t actually took them… Her eyes taking in the weird pen tucked in a corner, almost out of sight – for the geese, she supposed – and the doghouse that stood proudly not too far from the deck.

“We grew stuff last spring, so the garden wouldn’t be too ugly.” Haymitch said, leaning his elbows against the railing. He waved at the foot of the deck. “It should grow back. I ain’t very good with flowers…”

“I will learn.” she decided. She wanted a pretty garden.

“We can’t have anything too bright though… Colorful flowers…” He winced.

She didn’t need him to explain though. Bright colorful flowers would bring him back to his arena.

“We can have roses. The red sort, obviously.” she amended before the ghost of white roses could hover over them. “Or maybe something easier to maintain. Do you know what would look lovely on the porch? Wisteria.”

“You’d have to talk with the boy. He knows the flower shop better than I do.” He pointed at several spots in the backyard. “Was thinking we could get a few trees in there. Lemon trees maybe…”

“It would add some color.” she approved. “Oh, and we could try a vegetable garden… We have so much space… A small one, mind. I am not sure how much I will like digging into the dirt…” He chuckled but shrugged his agreement. “The woods are awfully close, though.” she remarked, scanning the edge of the trees. “Isn’t it dangerous? I thought all sorts of wild animals live there…”

“We’ll get the occasional fox, I guess, but they’re everywhere.” He patted the railing with the flat of his palm thoughtfully. “I’ve still got some planks though. We can add a fence if you want.”

“We will have to paint it blue to match the shutters.” she hummed. “And add a couple of gates. The house is big, it would be easier if we didn’t have to walk all around to get inside.”

“Sure.” he nodded, turning back to the house. “Ready to see the rest?”

The deck as it turned out, connected to the last room on the ground floor. The living-room was painted in various shades of apple and mint green and Effie knew, on the spot, that this would be her favorite room. Not only because of the floor to ceiling windows and the view they offered but because this room was _cozy_. The mural on the wall depicted a lake – not just a classic blue lake but one with green moss on the surface and mysterious looking willow trees and it might have looked menacing if the sky hadn’t been so blue and the sun shining so brightly – the shelves were still empty, the brick fireplace in the corner was small but just enough to feel comforting, the couch was brand new, comfortable looking and still smelled of fresh leather and the TV was mounted on the wall, almost too huge for the room.

Since Haymitch wasn’t a fan of watching TV she knew he had gotten it for her and she kept her tongue about the proportions.

“We will need a rug.” she hummed. “And a coffee table. Maybe even curtains. I love the windows but we might want some shade in summer…”

Like the dining-room, the living-room only had the bare minimum.

“Yeah, see…” he snorted. “I knew I’d choose wrong so…”

She flashed him a smile and sauntered out of the room with the intention of coming right back once she had finished visiting everything and making a list of everything they would need. The coffee table in his house wasn’t so bad. It was old and a little damaged from the years of neglect but if they sanded it, painted and varnished it… It could work.

She skipped up the stairs, letting her hand trail on the banister that was so smooth to the touch…

The first floor was arranged around the square hole the stairs left. There were no archways there, only cherry red doors that matched the cherry trees painted on the creamy walls of the hallway and she looked at Haymitch. He nodded at the only one that was ajar. “Master.”

She didn’t hesitate much longer. She almost _glided_ there.

The room was all in blue, the softest of blue. The master was facing the back of the house and, thus, it too had huge windows that took up the whole wall. It was a good thing neither of them suffered from vertigo though. There too, they would need curtains as a matter of priority, she decided.

“I see you’ve made yourself at home.” she mocked because Fluff was sprawled on the bed that had been made with a blue comforter that matched the wall. It must have been Peeta’s touch because she couldn’t imagine Haymitch going _that_ far.

Haymitch growled in annoyance. “Off the bed. _Off_ the bed. Bad puppy.”

Fluff leaped off the bed with a whine but soon came to drop on Haymitch’s feet, rolling on his back with such a pleading look that Haymitch rolled his eyes and crouched to rub his belly. Effie turned away from the sight with a smile and admired the rest of the bedroom.

She loved it.

The furniture was all white in there and it worked with the blue tones. The bed was facing the windows but the wall behind it was taken up by a huge mural of a cliff with waves crashing on the rocks with birds and little boats in the distance… Unlike the rest of the house, and aside for the missing curtains, this room was clearly _finished_. There were even matching bedside rugs, an antique dressing table in one corner awaiting her…

She pointed at the only empty spot in the corner, right next to the window. “Your armchair is coming here, isn’t it?”

The armchair in his bedroom had been there for as long as she could remember – and she could remember as far as their second Reaping together when she had been forced to show up at his house to drag him out of bed because he was late and not planning on attending. For some obscure reason, he loved that thing even if it was frayed and frankly could have done with a thorough wash. He insisted it was the most comfortable chair in his house – which puzzled her because it was more often than not covered with dirty clothes so it wasn’t likely he used it often.

“Yeah.” he confirmed, glancing up at her and then back at the dog. “If you wanna share the room with me.”

“That is a stupid question if I ever heard one.” she declared and pushed the closed white door on the side of the room.

She was glad to see the bathroom didn’t have a huge window but only a respectable rectangle one. That room gave on the side of the house and it was far bigger than she had thought it would be from the corridor. The central piece was obviously the bathtub. It was round like a half-cut egg and could easily sit three people.

It was the same one she used to have in her second apartment. One she had lamented the loss of at length. It hadn’t been fashionable anymore by the time she had moved out.

“Took me a while to find one.” Haymitch commented, opening the small window. The room still smelled like paint a little so the fresh air was welcome.

“I bet…” she whispered, caressing the white porcelain with something akin to awe. She forced herself to move away, look at everything else… There were two washbasins with cherry wood cabinets underneath and two round mirrors over them… There was a shower in the corner – one that had _clearly_ been shipped straight from the city but, then again, Haymitch had always loved those showers, an elegant cherry wood cupboard…

The room was in pale shades of mauve and she wasn’t surprised to find the mural was a lavender field at sunset…

“Why lavender?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

Arms closed around her waist, his nose bumped against the side of her neck… “Cause that’s what my bed smelled like every time you lied in it…” It was such a small thing. That he would know her favorite shampoo fragrance… And yet it meant the world. “I’ve been buying lavender scented detergent for years.”

She closed her eyes, leaned against his chest…

“Why, Haymitch… You actually know how to do the laundry? I am _shocked_.” she deadpanned.

He wasn’t fooled by the apparent cheerfulness though.

“I’ve been thinking about you.” He almost begged her to understand, to believe him. “All the _fucking_ time.”

“I know.” she breathed out.

It was written everywhere around the house.

That house…

That house was a _love letter_.

It was in every detail he had remembered to include, in the perfect harmony of their combined tastes… She could tell he had worked hard on it, and not just on the building side of things but on the _design_ , on how to make it work… It wasn’t just about the house. It was about them, how they could coexist despite their differences, _because_ of their differences, and still make something beautiful out of it…

She wanted to cry, suddenly, and she wasn’t sure how to explain to him why she was so upset so she gently slipped out of his arms, out of the room and kept on exploring.

There was another bathroom on the landing, in a different shade of blue, smaller and less extravagant but just as pretty.

There was a guest room with the same incredible view of the backyard, more sparingly decorated. It was missing the bed that, she supposed, would have to come from Haymitch’s house.

She pushed the last door not quite knowing what to expect, another guest room perhaps…

What she found took her breath away.

It was a walk-in closet with built-in shelves painted the softest of pink, elegant alcoves with racks to hang clothes, a huge mirror that made the room look that much bigger… There was a round pink ottoman in the middle of the room and instead of the parquet floor that was everywhere else in the house save for the bathroom, there was the plushiest pink carpet on the floor…

What really took her breath away however was the circular painting that ran between shelves incorporating them in the design rather than running around them… This was clearly Peeta’s masterpiece. It must have required _hours_ of work.

“This is…” she whispered, slowly turning on herself to better take it in.

Haymitch stepped inside and closed the door behind him. With it shut, the illusion was complete and perfect. How Peeta had worked the change in colors in the design, she wasn’t sure but it was perfect. Absolutely perfect.

“The view from the penthouse’ roof.” he confirmed, glancing around. “As it used to be.”

She licked her lips and bit the inside of her cheek as she hungrily studied her city the way it used to be, spreading far and wide with colors everywhere and towering skyscrapers in the distance… “Why…”

“Because you loved that city.” he sighed. “And because we have good memories on that roof.”

They did.

The roof had been a refuge for years, the only place where they could actually _speak their minds_ without fear of repercussion. She had lost count of the number of times she had sneaked upstairs to have a smoke and found him already there, drinking straight from a bottle. She had lost count of the number of times they had had sex on that roof.

And he was right she used to love her city. Even after she had opened her eyes to its cruelty she had still found the Capitol itself beautiful. The colors, the crowds, the subtle alliance of glass and metal… She had loved everything about it.

The current Capitol wasn’t the one she remembered though, like her it was marred by scars that changed everything. She couldn’t see its beauty, she didn’t recognize it.

“Thank you.” she breathed out and turned to him, briefly closing her eyes before meeting his. She couldn’t quite bat the tears back entirely. “ _Thank you_ , Haymitch.”

He still looked nervous but a little less uncertain. He took a hesitant step closer. “You like it, then?”

She laughed and looked around. “I am not quite sure how we will fill this because all my clothes are in one suitcase and it would take me two decades to build my collection back but… We will think of something.”

“Well…” He smirked. “At least I know what to get you for the next twenty Christmases.”

She shook her head and reached for him, clutching the thick fabric of his coat. “You are not to give me any more Christmas presents for the rest of our lives, you did enough.” She didn’t want to offend him or let him think she wasn’t appreciative so she smiled. “I _will_ accept birthday presents though.”

He chuckled and tucked her hair behind her ear, letting his fingers trail down the line of his jaw. “You really _do_ like it, then? The house?”

She wasn’t sure how to express in words just _how much_ she liked it.

They had always been so bad at verbally communicating… That would have to improve, of course, but for now…

She did the only thing she could think of doing to let him know how she felt: she kissed him until her head spin from the lack of oxygen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GASP what a shock! The gift was the house! Did you enjoy the tour? Did Haymitch do it right? Is Effie the luckiest girl on Earth or what? Let me know your thoughts!


	7. All That I Wanted (Was To Be Wanted)

Everything they wanted to keep from Haymitch’s old house was moved in by Christmas Eve.

It had demanded two weeks of hard work but the house was finally well and truly finished. Effie had been a whirlwind, so focused on getting everything _just right_ that Haymitch had often joked with Peeta that they should have told her years ago and that, with that sort of enthusiasm, the house would have been finished in weeks instead of years. She didn’t mind the affectionate taunts. It had been so long since she had something to truly focus on, to fully get involved in… It was exactly what she had needed: a purpose. She had made lists and schedules and she had crawled to bed exhausted every night.

She wasn’t sure if it was because of that exhaustion or because she had foregone the guest room for Haymitch’s bed but she had slept better of late too. There had been nightmares but they had been mild compared to the ones she used to have in the city and it helped that Haymitch had been there to coax her out of them. She had been burning so much energy she had even developed an appetite too…

And now that the last box had been carried over, everything was in its proper place and they were finally ready to actually _move in_. They could have done that before since the house was mostly furnished but she liked the idea of starting their new life there for Christmas. That night would be their first night in their new house and that was why she had insisted they spent Christmas Eve and the following day’s Christmas lunch there instead of at the children’s: she wanted the house to become theirs too.

All in all, Effie mused, as she surveyed the tree the four of them had spent the evening decorating, she was happier right now than she had been in years. She had a dream house that currently smelled like the Christmas cookies Peeta had been baking nonstop, she had a dog who was snoring on the couch he technically wasn’t allowed to climb on, she had her two victors and she had Haymitch.

Haymitch who wrapped his arm around her from behind and tugged her against him to drop a quick kiss on her neck… He released her just as quickly. A blink and you would miss it gesture of affection.

Mostly because the children complained they were _mushy_.

Well, they complained while smiling wide and looking extremely happy for them but, still, she thought they were genuine in their horror every time they saw a hand wandering to a thigh or a kiss lingering too long – which was a bit over the top in her opinion because for the most part everything was still very innocent between them. The making-out might get a little out of hand sometimes but they hadn’t taken it further than that yet. True to his word – and despite the fact that he would have been entitled to expect more given his Christmas gift – Haymitch hadn’t pressured her on that front and she hadn’t yet made a move.

“Should we go have some hot cocoa in the living-room?” she suggested. “We can exchange presents there.”

Her offer was unanimously approved and, once they had trays full of hot chocolate mugs and cookies, they retreated to the living-room that was just as decorated as the rest of the house. She had even squeezed a smaller Christmas tree in a corner, next to the window – she loved the big one in the front of the house but she spent most of her time in the living-room.

“We’re gonna have to do something about you and sleeping on furniture.” Haymitch grumbled, shooing the dog away.

Fluff wasn’t happy about having to relocate and he looked at Effie with pleading eyes she had quickly learned she didn’t quite know how to resist. Haymitch was firm with his rule about not allowing dogs on the couch or the bed though – not that it didn’t mean Fluff didn’t get away with it – and she knew to pick her battles. She sneaked him a piece of cookie and he let out a deep sigh as if it was a real hardship but he did relocate on the rug in front of the lit fireplace.

“You spoil him.” Haymitch complained but he still coiled his hand around her nape in a never forgotten mark of affection.

“He is a _baby_.” she countered, immediately relaxing when he started gently squeezing her neck. He let go soon after, clearly with regret. His fingers trailed down her back before he reached for one of the mugs. 

“For now. But when he gets huge and out of control, you ain’t gonna think it’s cute.” he replied.

The children exchanged a look and a smile they thought to be discreet. It wasn’t. And she was pretty sure Haymitch noticed too but she let it slide.

She was too happy to concern herself with exactly how _mushy_ she looked.

“Presents!” Katniss reminded them all with a rare burst of childish enthusiasm. She had dismissed the free armchair to sit on the floor next to the tree and she was the first one to reach for the shiny wrapped gifts piled there. She grabbed a silver one without looking at the tag and immediately handed it to Peeta, her eyes bright with excitement. “For you.”

Peeta’s smile was spontaneous and he eased himself out of his armchair to sit on the floor next to her, his fake leg stretched out in front of him and his real one tucked neatly under his other knee. “What is it?”

“Open it and you’ll see.” Katniss challenged, refusing to give her game up.

Effie smiled, still somehow surprised to see them so at ease and happy together. When she had left them, their relationship had been rocky at best, unrequited at most.

“I told you not to do anything crazy…” Peeta chided her, tugging on the ribbon and then attacking the paper…

“Don’t worry, it’s not the key to a surprise house.” the girl deadpanned.

“Bloody _ha ha ha_.” Haymitch scowled. “Mock me all you want. It worked out in the end, yeah?”

This time, when he placed his hand on the small of her back, he didn’t take it off and Effie automatically slid closer to him. She wasn’t _quite_ cuddling with him – in public, when she was the hostess? it would have been rude – but she was very much leaning against him. His hand drifted to her hip, his arm enclosing her. She felt his whole body relax and she knew that, had they been alone, he would have kissed her forehead.

Of course, Fluff chose that moment to discreetly sneak around and hop on the free cushion on the couch, disrupting the peace.

“No.” Haymitch ordered firmly but she wasn’t the only one who wasn’t immune to big puppy eyes and after a staring contest that lasted all of thirty seconds, he sighed and rolled his eyes. Taking that for the tacit permission it was, Fluff crawled up to Effie’s legs, dropped his little head in her lap and sprawled. In minutes he was fast asleep.

“You spoil him.” she teased, faking a disappointed tone that made the children burst out laughing.

“Smart ass.” Haymitch muttered.

“Language.” she retorted.

She had lost track of what Peeta was doing but when he exclaimed in delight to find what was clearly a box full of glass vials with various powders and what not, Effie frowned and looked at Haymitch, a question in her eyes.

“Rare pigments.” he explained in a low voice while Peeta kissed Katniss in thanks. “She spent months tracking them down. He likes to do his own paint.”

She nodded because it made sense and then watched as Katniss, clearly embarrassed by how grateful Peeta looked if the blush on her cheeks was to be believed, reached under the tree for another silver present. A slight limp one this time. She tossed it at Peeta.

“Tradition.” she declared, her grey eyes sparkling with mirth. “Don’t worry, there’s one for everyone.”

Haymitch groaned but she didn’t let that deter her, she grabbed two more limp silver presents, checked the tags this time, and tossed them at her former mentor who caught them easily enough. He dropped one on Effie’s lap.

Curious, she lost no time unwrapping it and found a beanie inside. At least, she thought it was a beanie. It was a bright pink and had a lopsided pompom loosely sewed at what should be the crown of the head, assuming the asymmetric form of the beanie allowed the hat to actually _stick_ on one’s head. It was clearly handmade and she realized Katniss must have knitted it herself.

“Oh, darling! Thank you!” she exclaimed, clutching the gift to her chest, touched that Katniss had thought about her.

“Don’t thank her until you’ve tried it.” Haymitch snorted, pulling a sweater out of his own package. There had been an attempt at geometric patterns that had been abandoned half-way through and the sleeves were not the same lengths. He still ducked his own sweater to slip this one on. “You should teach her how to knit properly. As soon as possible.”

“I don’t know…” Peeta joked, wrapping his scarf full of loose stitches around his throat. “I think she likes that they look terrible…”

“How rude of the two of you!” Effie huffed. “Poor Katniss spent time knitting for you and…”

But _poor Katniss_ was laughing hard at the two of them so she couldn’t be _that_ offended. She supposed it was a private joke from that winter Haymitch had mentioned, a private joke she had not been there for and, as a consequence, wasn’t a part of.

Nevertheless, she put the beanie on since it seemed to be what was required of her and Katniss laughed even harder because, of course, it didn’t fit like it should. Peeta took one look at her and laughed too, teasing Katniss about how terrible her knitting was… Haymitch chuckled and plucked the hat from her head, not careful enough not to tussle her hair for her tastes.

“Don’t you look cute with that.” he mocked.

Never one to be made fun of, she snatched the hat from his hand and forced it on his own head. It fitted even less because Haymitch’s head was too big. Now it was _her_ turn to laugh and, once the children caught sight of what was happening, they roared with laughter too.

Effie grinned. “How _fetching_. Pink really _is_ your color.”

He grumbled as he tossed the hat in a corner of the couch but there was a smile tugging at his lips and he dragged her back against his side as soon as the hilarity had died down.

Katniss grabbed another present, seemingly at random this time, read the tag and handed it to Peeta again. Effie watched him tear off the pink paper with some trepidation, stroking Fluff’s little head, but the boy looked nothing short of delighted when he spotted the heavy art book inside. He glanced up at Effie and she cleared her throat before he could say anything. “There are some reproductions of masterpieces that were lost in the Great Floods inside and there is a section about technique I thought you might like.”

“It’s perfect!” Peeta exclaimed, stretching his arm so he could squeeze her hand. “Thank you, Effie.”

She didn’t have to force the gentle smile on her lips. She must have looked a little emotional because Haymitch’s thumb started drawing slow circles on her hip.

“Seriously?” Katniss snorted, looking at the tag on the next present. She looked up at Haymitch. “Seriously? You went and wrapped a gift for _the_ _dog_?”

Haymitch frowned, clearly puzzled. “I can barely wrap a _fucking_ present, why do you want me to make more work for myself?”

Effie huffed and reached for the present the girl was holding. “It is Christmas. Everyone should have at least one gift, shouldn’t they, pretty boy?” Fluff’s head had snapped up at that particular tone of voice she always used to talk to him – mostly, she thought, because that meant either cuddles or treats. His little black eyes tracked her every move as she loosened the paper for him. She didn’t mind Katniss and Haymitch’s laugh or the way Peeta was trying _not_ to laugh. She presented the gift to Fluff who immediately buried his head in the paper and lifted it again with a huge ball trapped in his jaw. When she tried to take it, he let out a growl. “Look again. Look.” Effie ordered. It took some working but she managed to get the ball and he eventually found the other chew toy shaped like a bone inside. A vivid pink bone. “The ball is for outside only.” she instructed, hiding it behind one of the throw pillows.

Fluff was looking at her and she had no doubt he would try to ferret it out before the end of the night but he also seemed to think she might take out the chew toy so he hopped off the couch and retreated to the fireplace, his prize secure in his mouth. 

“There is a present for Buttercup too.” she declared. “I did not want him to be left out.”

Although she wasn’t sure how much the cat would enjoy the stuffed mouse toy she had bought him. He was, after all, rather old now.

Katniss was having a lot of difficulties _not_ laughing again. Effie could feel the tension in Haymitch’s body as he tried, and failed, to contain his own amusement. The two of them were very attentive to avoid each other’s eyes.

Effie huffed. “Oh, laugh at me if you must!”

And laugh again they did.

“Ruffians.” she muttered under her breath but it only made them laugh harder.

Peeta coughed in his sleeve, except she wasn’t sure he was _really_ coughing, and grabbed another present at random. He handed that one at Haymitch.

It was from Katniss so she supposed the knitted presents truly were a joke. She had gotten him a recipe book with a few bookmarks scattered inside. He checked a few of the recipes out – and they all looked far too complicated for Effie – and snorted when he stopped on one of the bookmarked page. _Canard à l’orange_. “Is that a present for me or for you?”

“Both.” the girl answered cheekily. “Come on, you’ve got that big kitchen and you’re dying to try it out.”

“I’ll try it out soon enough.” he grumbled but it was mostly for show Effie could tell. “Or you’re volunteering to slave all morning to cook Christmas lunch?”

“I’ve killed the turkey.” she reminded him. “And Peeta’s bringing dessert.”

“I can help.” Effie offered, feeling a bit guilty that her contribution to the lunch they had planned would probably only be to dress the table.

“No!” they all protested at once, exchanging panicked looks.

She pursed her lips, narrowing her eyes in vexation. “What happened the other day was _an accident._ That stove was old, it could have happened to any of you!”

“Setting fire to the kitchen while boiling pasta?” Haymitch teased. “Never happened in twenty-seven years.”

“Well, twenty seven years is _old_ for a stove.” she insisted, pouting.

His grey eyes were riveted to her mouth and she knew he was dying to kiss that pout away. The children must have been scared he actually _would_ because Katniss exclaimed “ _presents_!” to remind them what they were doing. Haymitch stopped staring but he was distracted and as Katniss unwrapped a brand new leather bag full of hidden pockets that would be perfect for hunts, Effie leaned a little more against him.

She supposed it _could_ be called cuddling now.

She should mind, she knew, sit up straight, remember her bearing… A lady did not slouch and certainly not against a man but…

She was comfortable and Haymitch was warm and in the end she caved and rested her head on his shoulder, kicking off her heels to tuck her legs under her. The children didn’t seem to mind. Katniss was still inspecting the bag Haymitch had gotten her and Peeta was flicking through his art book.

She was so content that she startled when Katniss placed another silver present next to her on the couch. She frowned a little when she caught sight of the tag and looked at the girl curiously before unwrapping it. She found a shoe box inside – no brand on it so it must have come from Twelve’s shop – and she opened it to find darling black leather boots lined with white fur on the inside. The heels were so small the boots could almost be considered _flat_ and they were clearly only fashionable in the District but…

“You _shouldn’t_ have!” she gasped. “They must have cost…”

“Delly’s a friend. I got a discount.” Katniss dismissed. “And it’s good leather. They’ll last a few years. You need proper boots if you’re gonna stick around.”

“And that’s to go with them.” Peeta said, handing her another present wrapped in shimmering gold.

It was smaller and she was very careful not to damage the paper, she wanted to keep it. She found a pair of delicately stitched leather gloves inside. They were thin but warm.

“You can’t go around without gloves.” Katniss explained. “You’ll get frostbite.”

“Hand her the red one, yeah?” Haymitch asked casually.

The girl had to unearth it because it was under the other remaining presents. Effie put her feet back on the floor and placed the box on her lap, it was big and she tossed Haymitch a look. “Tell me this isn’t from you.”

“It isn’t from me.” he repeated innocently, lifting both hands in the air. “It’s from Santa.”

“ _Haymitch_.” she hissed.

“What? It’s true.” He shrugged. “Look at the tag.”

The tag indeed claimed the gift was from Santa and she rolled her eyes but couldn’t quite hide her smile. “Haymitch, you built me _a house_. I do not need…”

“Yeah, you _do_.” he cut her off gently. “Open it.”

“But…” she argued.

“What if it makes me happy to give you stuff?” he challenged. “You’re gonna begrudge an old man his happiness? Besides, if you wanna be technical, the house’s your Christmas present from three years ago so it doesn’t count.”

She shook her head at him but carefully unwrapped the gift she still said was _too much_. There was a brand on that box alright. And it was a good brand. An _expensive_ brand. He had it shipped from the Capitol.

She opened the box and found a coat inside. A beauty of red velvet and gleaming buttons…

She couldn’t help but press her lips tight to stop herself from laughing.

Haymitch’s face fell. “You don’t like it? Thought you would… Color’s pretty and all…”

“It’s not that. I _love_ it.” she promised, chuckling a little.

“Good cause you need a proper coat. That one you’re wearing won’t get you through winter here.” He was sulking a little. “What’s so funny then?”

“Can you hand me the pink rectangular gift, darling?” she asked Katniss, standing up to try on her new coat. It fitted like a glove and she twirled a little, enjoying the way it felt on her shoulders. Not too heavy but not too light… “Here.” She passed the present to Haymitch who was now frowning.

He lost no time tearing the paper up and frowned harder when he spotted the very same brand that was on her own box. He glanced up at her and then opened it, taking out the heavy navy blue coat.

She wasn’t sure who snorted first, Katniss or Peeta, but soon enough, the children were elbowing each other. “Of one mind.” they kept whispering to each other before chuckling even more.

If she hadn’t known better she would have suspected them to have spiked their chocolate mugs.

“You got me a coat?” he asked, stunned. He stood up to try it on too. Obviously, it suited him perfectly. Her tastes were nothing if impeccable.

“I knew you would never have shopped for a new one without me.” she hummed, lovingly folding her brand new red coat so she could put it back in its box until she could hang it in her brand new walk-in closet. “So I surmised you were still wearing the old one and, what do you know, _I was right_. Do you like it? I chose a classic cut, obviously, I know you are not one for…”

The rest of that sentence was muffled by his lips. She barely registered the hand cupping her cheek or the fact that the children’s laughter had abruptly died down. She tilted her head and responded readily to his mouth.

She was a little out of breath when he finally drew back and she licked her lips, feeling quite dazed and quite happy to be.

She almost expected a comment about the two of them being all mushy again but the children were strangely quiet and nobody said anything about the kiss. They settled back on the couch and they finished handing presents around. Katniss was delighted with the scarf she had gotten her, Peeta loved the antique record player Haymitch had found him, Haymitch seemed happy with the pretty ivory chess set the boy gave him…

Soon there was nothing left but a large envelope and Katniss opened it with curious looks for Peeta who was grinning like the cat who got the cream. She pulled out leaflets for a ski resort in Seven and studied them with a frown.

“I booked it up.” Peeta said. “Two weeks. We’re leaving in three days.”

“But I can’t go.” Katniss protested. “I can’t leave Twelve…”

“Says who?” Haymitch challenged, looking very pleased with himself. The girl was staring at him, lost. Effie glanced between Peeta and Haymitch who both looked very pleased with themselves…

“Did you call Plutarch?” Katniss hesitated. “Did he say it was alright if you say it’s okay? Or… Are you coming with us?”

“Skiing in Seven?” Haymitch scoffed. “ _No_ _thanks_.”

Effie was a little relieved to hear that. She didn’t want him to leave her behind to go to Seven and she also didn’t want to leave her brand new house when she had just moved in, even for a holiday. But she was just as confused as the girl. Last she had heard, Haymitch was Katniss’ guardian because she wasn’t considered sound of mind…

“But…” Katniss argued.

“You’re of age and you haven’t gotten in trouble once in three years.” he cut her off. “Good job on not killing anyone, sweetheart. I’ve made an appeal and they agreed to lift some of the sanctions. You’re still _persona non grata_ in Thirteen and in the Capitol but you can travel around the Districts now. Congrats, Katniss, you’re a free woman.”

It was dropped so casually despite the importance of the moment that it took Effie a few seconds to process what it truly meant. It didn’t change a lot in the grand scheme of things because Haymitch hadn’t enforced his guardianship over her but to be nearly twenty and still legally forced to answer to a parental authority of sort…

It took a moment to dawn on Katniss too and, when it did, there were some tears and a lot of hugging. Peeta first, then Haymitch… That one was longer and Haymitch pressed a short kiss on her head before releasing her.

“Don’t go and get in trouble now, sweetheart.” he whispered.

“Finally got rid of me, you must be happy.” Katniss mocked when she stepped away, her eyes shining with tears.

Effie fully expected a deflection and some sarcasm but she should have known better. That was the old Haymitch, the one who hid behind a bottle. This new sober Haymitch…

“Don’t be stupid.” he scoffed, wiping the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs. “You’re mine and you’re always gonna be. No getting rid of _me_.”

Katniss shot straight at him again and that hug looked a little desperate to Effie.

When Peeta quietly suggested they got the trays full of empty mugs back to the kitchen, Effie agreed. She wasn’t quite sure what Haymitch and Katniss were muttering to each other but it clearly wasn’t for their ears.

They had always had a special relationship.

“Her mom doesn’t get in touch often.” Peeta explained, once they were in the kitchen, safe from prying ears. “She still think everyone’s gonna abandon her eventually. She knows I’ll stick around obviously and she knows Haymitch would never leave her but… She still struggles with it sometimes…”

Which explained why she had been so angry on the phone and had accused Effie of deserting her… She felt guilty. She had thought Katniss didn’t care much for her but perhaps… She had resented Aster Everdeen for something she was guilty of too. Regardless of her own feelings for Haymitch, she should have done more for the children after the war.

“I am sorry I was not there.” she blurted out. “I…”

“It’s alright, Effie.” Peeta interrupted gently, loading the dishwasher. He flashed her a small smile. “She was angry but she didn’t know half of what happened. The four of us… We’ve been through too much together to hold stupid grudges. You’re here now, that’s what’s important.”

She couldn’t help her own bout of emotions and she tugged the boy into a hug.

“I _do_ love you, you know?” she whispered. “I could not love you more if you were mine. The both of you. And I _should_ have been here but it was too much. Everything was too much.”

“I know.” Peeta promised, holding her tight. “If anyone gets it, it’s me. Don’t worry.”

And he _would_ understand, she supposed, because he had been down there in that hell too.

“Well, now…” Haymitch mocked from the threshold. “Who’s getting mushy?”

The joke had the designed effect and the children were soon laughing again.

It was a nice evening and nobody really wanted it to end. It was very late by the time Katniss and Peeta left, so very late she almost offered them the use of their brand new guest room, and suddenly it was only the two of them and a slumbering puppy in the house.

She tidied up while Haymitch forced the reluctant dog outside for a spell so he didn’t wake them up at dawn the next day. She heard him and Fluff come back into the house from her walk-in closet upstairs. She heard him move on the bedroom, his footsteps less confident than usual because it was their first night there and their routine was disrupted…

She waited, hesitated…

Then she heard his voice from the bedroom, protesting the puppy jumping on the bed and the subsequent one-sided conversation that consisted of scolds entwined with what she suspected to be cuddles.

She stopped hesitating then. 

Effie stood on the threshold of their bedroom, more nervous than she would have liked.

Haymitch was in the process of undressing and Katniss’ sweater was stuck around his head, which made her smile. She watched him struggle for a while, biting back a smile when he finally managed to tear himself free with an irritated huff. He glanced at her, eyebrows raised when he spotted the red coat she was wearing.

“Going somewhere?” he joked, his eyes darting to the corner of the room and his favorite armchair on which Fluff had sneaked on to sleep. He clearly wasn’t happy with that but it was better than having the puppy on the bed so he let it slide. “I already let him out tonight.”

“I have another present for you.” she declared before she could lose her nerves.

He raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Is it outside?”

“No.” She licked her lips and loosened the first two buttons. He glanced at the uncovered naked skin and back up, understanding dawning on his face. She did her best to stretch her lips into a seductive smile despite her nerves. “Would you like to unwrap it yourself or shall I do the honors?”

He swallowed hard but didn’t move when she slowly bridged the distance between them, undoing another button. Her breasts were on display now and he stared at them before closing his eyes tight.

“We don’t have to.” he croaked. “ _You_ don’t have to. I’m happy to wait. I…”

“I want to.” she cut him off. She knew all that already, that he would wait indefinitely, _forever_ if it was what it took, that he didn’t love her for the sex… Those concerns had been laid to rest.

When he did nothing more than stand there with his eyes closed, she raised on tip-toe and brushed a kiss against his lips.

“Effie…” he breathed out, reluctantly chasing after her mouth. “Sweetheart…”

His hands were balled into fists as he fought to restrain and quell his own urges. She gently stroke the back of them and, when he finally relaxed, brought them to her breasts. She firmly told herself not to obsess over how smaller they were when they had already not been big. If he noticed, he didn’t seem to care. With a whimper, he cupped them, gently stroking the delicate skin with his thumbs…

“Open your eyes.” she ordered.

“You’re torturing me.” he complained. “I want you so bad…”

“Have me then.” she challenged.

He shook his head. “You said…”

“I trust you. I _want_ you.” she promised. “Just… Nothing rough, not for now, alright?”

She didn’t think she would have been able to handle anything too violent, already she felt a tinge of apprehension.

And yet she was determined.

She wanted this. She wanted _him_.

She wouldn’t let fear stop her, not anymore. She would be bold and fabulous and fearless, like the Effie Trinket of old. If only for a night, she would be all that and more. 

When his mouth found the hollow of her throat, her collarbone, when his hands left her breasts to undo the rest of the buttons before gently steering her toward their new bed, the apprehension slowly fell away.

His hands caressed her body, _worshipped_ her body, and she wondered what she had even been afraid of in the first place.

She had been so adrift before his phone call…

When he gently, so cautiously, rocked into her, she realized she had stopped drifting at some point, that she had finally anchored down.

And it wasn’t just because Haymitch had built her a house…

It was because he had built her a _home_. 

**The End**

_Merry Christmas!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A deep thanks to Akachankami who betaed this whole story on her own and more generally slaves all year to make sure my stories are readable!
> 
> Let me know your thoughts!

**Author's Note:**

> Did you like it? Hate it? Let me know everything!


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